


flower crowns

by demisbum



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction, larrystylinson - Fandom
Genre: BoyxBoy, CuteHarry, Flowers, M/M, PunkLouis, Toplouis, bottomHarry, flowercrowns, harrystyles, larryfluff - Freeform, louistomlinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 62
Words: 156,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23987842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demisbum/pseuds/demisbum
Summary: harry likes pretty pink flowers and louis enjoys ink and piercings.started in 2015, finished in 2017.
Relationships: Louis and Harry, larry - Relationship, larrystylinson - Relationship, louisandharry - Relationship
Comments: 26
Kudos: 59





	1. prologue

* This story contains possible triggers. Read at your own risk.

January.

"No, no," Harry huffs out, frustration evident in his actions. He's in a rush to get home, but he has most definitely caught a cold and can't find his favorite type of cough syrup. It was really upsetting the pink-cheeked boy. He clenches his right hand into a fist and coughs into it, the sound deep and loud and dry.

Harry doesn't like being under the weather. This means that he's having to spend his day inside, watching silly shows, doing nothing productive, and not having any human interaction for at least a week. A week is a long time to Harry. He loves people, loves talking, and loves making people happy; he can't do that when he's sick.

"Look, mate, I get that you're sick, but you've been standing in that spot wallowing in self-pity for about thirty minutes, so either get what you're looking for and scoot, or I'll just shove ya outta the way."

Harry frowns at the somewhat high-pitched voice and lookw over his shoulder. Standing behind him is a guy; this guy has brown hair laying on his forehead, a fringe in a mess, tattoos scattering his arms (Harry thinks the boy should be wearing a little more clothing. C'mon, it's January, not June), and piercings in his eyebrow and lip. He looks quite edgy. And Harry would have moved away, yeah, the guy's eyes were such a bright blue that he couldn't look away even if there was a rope around his neck and a horse was trying to tug him away. So he just stands there, staring at the pretty boy with tattoos. He's short—well, not too short; shorter than Harry. But Harry's always been a tall fellow.

Once Harry realizes that he's just been staring like the weirdo he is, he coughs (not on purpose) and moves to the side, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Can't find my—" He coughs again, eyes shutting just a little bit before settling back on the blue eyed boy. "Favorite cough syrup, s'all." He shrugs after that, sniffling his nose which was red at the tip.

The other boy just stares at Harry like he was crazy, the left side of his lip raising and his eyebrow furrowing as he made his way to where Harry was standing. "Yeah. Well, I don't really care, so—" And then Harry was about to make him stop talking because there was a lady pushing a cart and not even caring to look up, but it was too late. She ran into the boy and the boy ran into Harry and Harry ran into the shelves which causes boxes upon boxes to fall into heaps across the tiled floor. "What the fuck are you doing? Can't ya look up, woman? Jesus. There are people here, you know. Now some kids that work here have'ta clean up the mess you caused and I bet you don't even care—" Harry didn't think the blue eyed boy cared either. "—Do you think this world revolves around you? Think again! Running into sick people like this, I should just fuckin' spit and cough all over that fake mouth of yours just to make you get sick, ya fuckin'—"

"Hey."

The lady looked as if she was about to cry, apologies spilling from her lips when the blue eyed boy took a breath in between his words. And the other boy had his hand waving around, face beginning to redden from anger. Now they both stopped talking to look at Harry, probably because he hadn't said a word until now and they forgot about him even being a part of this, too.

"This isn't nice. Let's try to—try to—" He tips his head back, screws his eyes shut and releases a loud sneeze into the sleeve of his sweater. "Get along." He finishes, trying to breathe through his stuffed up nose.

Harry was expecting the both of them to agree, nod along, shake hands and exchange apologies, but neither of them did. Blue-eyed boy just scoffed and shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes rolling. And the girl just grabbed her cart and turned around, going the opposite way rather quickly. "Well," Harry sighs out, looking at the boy, and then at the mess on the floor. That made Harry think back to what the boy was saying to the lady. He didn't want others cleaning up a mess they didn't do—though it was probably their job—so he put it upon himself to clean it up. Why not? There's no harm in it.

He walks over to the mess and scoops a pile of the boxes into his arms, trying to hold as much as possible, but even his long and somewhat muscular arms couldn't gather up all of the boxes at once. They just started falling back to the floor, box after box.

Harry let unintentional words pass through his lips, such as: "Ah," or "no, stop," and "dammit." This shouldn't upset the sick boy like it did. Now he's sad and coughing and wanting to help out. This day just isn't his day, and that's what made him a pouting, eye-watering mess. And what made this even worse is that Harry knew the pretty boy behind him hadn't left. He would have heard him leave if he did. 

"You can go, the show's over," said Harry, his voice quiet and hoarse. He didn't want to cry in front of the tattooed guy.

"Nah, I think it's just begun."

Little did Harry know that the blue eyed boy was speaking the truth.


	2. ❁1❁

Harry has always wanted to make people happy. When he was young, he would take the flowers from the neighbor's yard (the little six-year-old didn't know any better) and gave them out to the people that looked sad. His mother, for instance; for some reason, his mother always seemed sad. Little Harry didn't understand why—didn't understand why his father never stayed around for long.

Now, he's grown. Now Harry is a man that shares an apartment with two guys, and is still loving those flowers. But he doesn't take flowers from his neighbors yard, no—he grows them himself. In his garden at his grandmother's house. Who knew he would make a living out of doing something he loves? (Making people happy, and flowers, of course.) His flower stand (Harry calls it Flower Express) is something he cherishes deeply. He makes sure his prices aren't too pricey; Harry just wants others as happy as he is. It's sad when a fellow comes along, looking at the flowers and wanting a nice bouquet of them, but the lad only has about five dollars. That makes Harry just want to give it to him for free, and he will admit that he's done that before.

"Mornin', Mum," Harry mumbles quietly, exhaling loudly as he got down on one knee in front of the square concrete.

Today is a pretty day. The sun is out, there's a light breeze, and no one is around to bother Harry or send him sympathetic looks. The gravestone in front of him is surrounded with flowers, though they're all from him, and to make sure it stays all nice and pretty, he comes here nearly every day to visit his mother and to make sure the birds haven't decided to do their business on the gray stone. 

Today, Harry brought a bouquet of snapdragons and dahlia's, something he put together himself, and he sits them in the corner with the other bouquet of peonies. The peonies are already starting to die out, but they're still so incredibly pretty.

"You know that boy I told you about?" He continues to talk, scooting over to sit beside the stone with his legs crossed. He doesn't want to just lay where she's buried six feet down. That would be just horrible. "The one that was mean at that store," he says, as if his Mum could hear him. He hopes she can. "When he ran into my flower stand last month, he was the same. Rude. But you'll never guess what happened," he shakes his head, almost laughing. "He works at the tattoo shop! Wait, oh. I forgot to tell you. I moved the flower stand again. Now it's outside of the tattoo shop. I didn't have a clue he worked there, the owner said I could set up outside and everything, and Mum, you should have seen his face when he saw me outside." Harry laughs and runs a hand through his long hair, reliving the moment.

It was quite funny. Harry had ran into that boy again, for the billionth time, and each time he was still as mean as ever. And when Harry had to move the flower stand because of more people on that certain street, Harry couldn't help but laugh when Louis approached him with a cigarette in his mouth and his brow furrowed. "Not you again," Louis had muttered, throwing the cigarette down on the ground and stomping on it. "You're here now? Am I getting punk'd or something?" He'd said. That caused Harry to shake his head and say: "No, no you're not. Sorry, I didn't know I was that irritating." He wasn't serious when he said that, but Harry had given Louis a gerbera daisy and left him alone. Louis had taken it with a grumble of incoherent words (they weren't nice words anyway, so Harry was partly happy that he didn't hear the rude words) and entered the shop. Occasionally, Louis comes out to smoke or to go out to eat, and no matter how many times Harry says to not smoke around the flowers, the blue eyed boy seems to forget and do it even more.

"I'm going to get him to like me, you know. I'm sure he's a lovely boy, Mum. He's soo pretty. One of the prettiest boy's I've ever seen. God. I want to hug him and play with his hair." Harry went on, going off into a fantasy of the pretty boy. "His eyes are probably my favorite. And he has this piercing in his lip that makes him look so intimidating but for some reason he makes it look so cute at the same time." He stops to sigh in adoration. "I believe I've got a bit of a crush, Mum. It's just hard to always smile around him sometimes because he really doesn't like me..." He says, his voice getting quieter, and as he looks down, he puts his chin in the palm of his hand, and begins picking at the grass.

"I wish you were still here to give me some advice." He felt like crying. This always happens. He would tell her about what's going on in his life, and then get sad when there wasn't a response of encouraging words or words of her saying she was proud of him. He wanted to make her happy and proud. Hopefully, she knows how much Harry has done for himself and how many people he's made smile. Isn't that something to be proud of? "Well." He huffs out, looking down at his wristwatch and standing. "Gotta go get to work. March is always a busy month for me and I don't even know why." Harry shook his head and slid his hands into his pockets, looking down at the stone. "Love you."

❃❃❃

"And what are these?" The guy asks Harry. The poor bloke looks utterly confused. He didn't know the difference between a simple rose and an anemone. There's definitely a difference.

"Those are Dutch roses. Very lovely for a lovely..." Harry looks at him with a large grin. "Woman?" The boy nods and so does Harry. "I'll let you have the bouquet for only eleven pounds, yeah?" The boy Harry was talking to seems really stressed out. He assumes it was a fight and the bloke was trying to make up with her. The guy had on a lovely suit with a purple tie. 

"Tell you what," says Harry, grabbing a purple delphinium flower pin. He motions with his finger for the boy to step closer, and once he does, Harry begins pinning the flower onto his jacket. "I'll give you this, free of charge, and I did knock off ten pounds." Truth is, Harry hates seeing the boy so sad and stressed. The flowers were probably the only thing to bring them back together, apart from the apologies, so Harry wants it to be perfect. He just wants everyone happy.

He bought the flowers, thankfully. It made Harry incredibly happy that he did; he just wanted to hug the guy and kiss him on the forehead. He held himself back from doing so. Harry was in the middle of trying to remove his flower apron to go on a lunch break; a small sign he painted himself on the flower stand read: be a coward and don't steal my flowers! be back soon .x Harry thought that it was absolutely brilliant because not only did he make it up himself but it rhymed (kinda). Anything that rhymes makes him happy for some reason. He's never been too good at poetry, sadly—always being the one to just rhyme like knob, slob, job, cob—you can see that his poems never worked out well now. (His songs he made up went like that as well.)

Harry ran both of his slender fingers through his hair and turned, jumping and nearly falling backwards when the tattoo shop's doorbell went off, signaling a coming or going individual, and yeah, normally that wouldn't make him release a high-pitched noise and stumble away, but when he first sees those blueblueblue eyes, well, it has that effect on him. He can feel his palms sweating--cheeks heating up due to his clumsy episode, and all Louis did was stare with a brow raised and stick a cigarette between his lips.

"You all right there?"

Harry was about to squeal, not because he's falling again, but because Louis' talking to him. Normally, Harry is the one that strikes up the conversation, lamely, but still a conversation about the weather. This time, Louis is speaking to him first. He responded with a nod of his head and mentally scolds himself. 

"Mhm, yeah, m'fine. Great, actually. How are you? Are you good?"

Louis nods lazily and turns, heading down the street to eat his everyday sandwich he gets at Firehouse Subs (Harry will not admit that he's been watching him for so long that he knows where and what he has for lunch every day) and disappears behind the business buildings and a sea of people.

❃❃❃

Harry was greeted with the smell of much burnt enchiladas when he arrived at his apartment. A loud and throaty groan passes his lips because he just knows that Niall tried to cook them. As he enters the kitchen, he watches as Niall fanned the much burnt enchiladas with an oven mitten and still tried to eat them. Harry couldn't see the light and soft appearance of the tortilla, no, but a black and crispy one that did not look edible.

"Niall," Harry huffs, walking beside him with his serious face. (His serious face, as Liam calls it, is when he scrunches his eyebrows together and curls his lip upward in frustration. He also makes this face when offended or hurt, which is rare. Liam also calls him tiger when that happens, because when Harry is offended he gets extremely defensive and flower-crown-Harry is practically nonexistent.) "Did Liam know you were trying to cook Mexican food? Of all the things you can cook, you decide to choose the category of foods in which you cannot cook in." Harry wouldn't be so upset if Niall wouldn't have wasted such perfectly good ingredients that he bought himself.

"Hey, don't get upset, I was tryin' to do you a solid and shit so you'd come home from a long day of work to a nicely prepared meal, princess," Niall says in one breath.

Harry giggles because no one can stay mad at Niall, especially when he's trying to do something nice. Niall always gets impatient (Liam, too, if he's really hungry) when Harry gets home later than planned, because he's the one that does the cooking around here. Every day. They tried calling him, once, wondering what he was going to cook, because apparently, if it wasn't satisfying to them, they'd order takeout. Harry is the one to switch his phone off while working, so the predicament they were in was most definitely a bad one. One day, Harry came across a little chalkboard that was in the shape of a bouquet of flowers, so he bought it. From then on, when he wakes up and writes on that chalkboard what meal he's going to prepare so that there are no more freak-outs around the small apartment.

"Thank you, Niall, I appreciate the effort, but did Liam know you were—"

"Did I know wha—? Niall! What on earth are you doing?" Liam interjects, eyes wide and lips parted.

"Can't do anything nice around here, can I?" Niall mutters, now on his way out of the kitchen because he wasn't going to clean the mess up. "I try and try again to please you bastards, but nothin'—" Harry couldn't hear his rambling after he left.

An hour passes by, which has consisted of cleaning up the mess, throwing away the enchiladas (Harry went outside to toss them away, but he saw a little black cat at the trashcan and his face lit up because the enchiladas might serve a great purpose in filling up this cat's belly for the night. When Harry gave the cat the enchiladas, he hissed, meowed and scurried away, and Harry will never speak about how he chased after Snuggles [yes, he named him] until he tripped and fell and cried because the poor cat got away without eating), ordering pizza, making Niall clean his shared room with Liam, and now, Liam is studying with a computer in his lap and Niall is probably passed out sleeping in his bed.

"Hey, Liam," Harry whispers to him, hesitant about disturbing his studying peace.

"Hm?" He responds, the light clicking of his fingers typing away on his keyboard coming to a stop.

"You know that Louis kid?" Harry starts picking at his comfortable sweatpants and waits for Liam's reply. Harry has talked about his two-month-crush to Liam before. Liam has always been the go-to man for advice. He's in college, is smart, and has been in plenty of relationships. He's like Jesus but in Liam Payne form.

Harry heard Liam sigh and knew he was in for a lecture. "Yes, Harry. What happened this time?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all. He talked to me first today, so I think that he's starting to, ya know, like me a little. As a friend, of course."

"Harry, that boy just screams trouble. He's inconsiderate, rude, and makes fun of you. I don't know why you have feelings for a guy like that when you can do much better. I can't force you to just stop liking him, but I'm going to say this because I love you and you're my best pal: Move on. It's been two months, he doesn't even say hello to you, and he doesn't care. Don't waste your breath on him. You're a great guy, H, and he's a bad influence. Have I told you about my friend Ed? He's great and single. He's such a wonderful person, too."

Harry may or may not have drowned out on his wise words of advice, because he didn't want to hear about how Louis didn't care. It's silly, but if he didn't care, why would he ask is he was all right when he tripped? He went to bed happy that night, ignoring Liam when he tried to hook him up with his friend Ed, because now it's his mission to get Louis happy and to get him to like him. He seems sad all the time and Harry will fix that.


	3. ✿2✿

Harry woke up that morning happier than usual. He was practically humming and dancing around the kitchen while making breakfast for everyone. Liam thought he'd finally gone mad because he didn't understand how someone could be so happy at an early hour such as that. Niall enjoyed and actually started dancing along with him while using a spatula to bang against the oven as music. Now Harry is organizing his flower stand and trying to figure out which flowers he's going to pass out for free today. It's such a hard decision, you see, because all the flowers are so beautiful, from amaryllis to zinnias. And while he was searching and picking through all of them, he near about gasped and jumped from joy when his bright emerald eyes landed on the camellias. Oh my, he thought to himself, picking up the stunning pink flowers to admire. They were absolutely perfect. He held the bunch of flowers in his hands and walked over to his table, lying them down carefully and taking out his scissors to cut off some of the leaves.

"Oh!" Harry loudly said when a lady walked by. She had a beautiful purple dress on and curly hair. Her hair flopped when Harry caught her attention, shocked by his sudden loud words. "Here, Miss," he muttered with a soft smile, handing her a camellia. Her face actually lit up with a bright smile and Harry has never been more proud of himself when she leaned over to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Maybe I should get into the flower business."

Harry's eyes went wide and he quickly turned to see Louis standing there, eyes hidden behind a pair of Ray Bans and hair slicked back so nicely. He was partly confused because out of those two months he's been watching Louis, Harry has never seen his hair gelled back, but in that cute fringe he loves so much. It takes Harry a moment to register the fact that Louis has started talking to him first again, and that makes Harry nearly giggle, although he's confused as to why he would want to get into the flower business. "Hm?" He questioned, preparing a flower to give to Louis.

"The babes," he stated, a faint smirk on his lips.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed and he nodded, slightly confused (again), and then he stepped closer to Louis to hand him the flower. Louis took it with a laugh and shook his head, entering the tattoo shop singing a tune quietly.

Half an hour went by and Harry has been completely and entirely content with himself for making people smile. He even made a crying little girl stop crying and take the flower he handed. She was adorable, had bright blue eyes and tight curly blonde hair. The poor little thing was sobbing, cheeks tinting with pink and nose turning to match her cheeks. The father looked absolutely fed up with her and, Harry assumed, that he just gave up on trying cheering up the poor girl. "Here you go, beautiful," He had said while handing her the pink flower; it matched her socks. The crying immediately stopped; she took the flower, sniffed it, and batted her eyelashes shyly. Harry wanted to hug the life out of her and steal her for himself. He even thought about it. He'd teach Niall how to dress her, show Liam what kind of foods to shop for, buy her cute tutus and all things pink and purple. He'd love her so much that it'd hurt. But then her father was dragging her away, the flower clutched tightly in her hand, and he joyously grinned when he received a small wave of gratitude from the pretty little girl.

Now he's completely stuck on trying to make this sweet and cute flower crown with cherry blossoms, looping stems together and knotting carefully. He's so focused on this, a size only fit for his head, that he didn't notice Louis coming out for a smoke and watching in utter fascination. Louis couldn't make out what Harry was so zoned in on that he hadn't told Louis off (nicely, of course) for smoking near the flowers again, so he decided to take small steps closer to him, standing on his tiptoes to peer over his back. Harry, now sensing someone's presence, quickly whips his head around, rather alarmed, and accidentally rips the flower crown in half from downright shock.

"Louis," he breathed out, still not realizing that he has ripped his flower crown in half.

"Whatcha doin' there?" Louis asked, still trying to look at what's in Harry's giant hands.

"Making a flower—oh . . ." Harry frowned when he lifted up his hands and seen that he tore the flower crown in half, slightly sighing in frustration because the prettypretty flowers were ruined and his flower crown won't be worn ever. It didn't even get a chance. And he won't admit that he's on the verge of tears because of it.

"No offense, but that looks like absolute shit. What were you doing, mate? Clearly, it wasn't working out too well, hm?"

Harry's still frowning and Louis isn't helping in the slightest. He wants to blame Louis but he knows he could never have the courage to do that, or the guts. He doesn't want to upset Louis in any way and make him dislike the near-tears boy even more. "It was a f-flower crown . . . and I messed it up." Harry didn't want to say good-bye to the cherry blossoms and throw them away. Surely they are useful in some way, right?

It was quiet after that, none of them was speaking, both just staring at Harry's hands. Jade eyed boy wondered if Louis felt bad for Harry and that might be the reason why he's not saying anything. Meanwhile, Harry thought of something so absolutely brilliant that he lit up and the frown was no longer on his face. He knotted the half-flower crown together, making it into a small circle, and tried to slide it onto his wrist. Wretchedly, his own hand was too big to put the flower bracelet on. Louis continued to watch, the cigarette put out by now, and when he seen that Harry wasn't able to put the flower bracelet on his wrist, Louis lifted his own and pursed his lips, beginning to slowly back away. But then Harry turned to face him, eyes bright and hopeful and Louis knew he was screwed.

"Louis!" He happily said, taking steps closer to the boy with a wide smile. "Can you do me a—"

"No."

"Favor?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows when Louis said no, looking down at the bracelet, and the frown returning on his pretty pink lips.

Louis thought he'd just give up on asking since he said no, but then Harry looked so sad, and he stuck his lower lip out in a pout. He thought a man should never act this way, but then again, Harry isn't even human because this is the first time he's seen him sad because the boy is just a ball of sunshine and because the boy is like a unicorn that throws flowers around in a meadow. Louis didn't know why Harry is built so tall and big when he has the brain and heart of a happy child.

"Okay," Harry sadly said, sniffling slightly, lower lip still poked out.

"Ugh, fine."

Harry looked at him with a hopeful smile and licked his dry lips, watching in astonishment when Louis, out of annoyance, flung his wrist out toward curly. Harry wanted to take Louis' small hand and kiss his fingers and palm, but he held himself back from doing so and just decided to slide the flower bracelet onto his hand without touching him. It slid on smoothly, Harry gasping in happiness and Louis groaning in embarrassment. He admired Louis and how it looked, finding it adorable how tough he looked but then the flower crown added that tiny touch that made him look soft—just a little. Louis ran his fingers over the flowers with a scrunched up nose, making sure his hand was lowered so that no one seen it on him. "Does it itch?"

"Tickles," Louis replied.

"I love it so much." And he loved how small his hand was to put the flower bracelet on.

"Mhm," Louis hummed, trying to not pay attention to Harry. "Can I take it off?"

Harry frowned and scrunched his eyebrows together when he asked that. Why would he want to take it off? Harry thought it looked so cute and wonderful on him. And he didn't want to waste the pretty flowers. And because of Harry's pout and frown once again, that's how Louis left the bracelet on the entire day. Harry felt too accomplished when he watched Louis go home with a flower bracelet around his wrist, all for Harry because he didn't want to hurt his feelings. Maybe Louis does have a heart, maybe Louis does like the pouty guy, and maybe Louis liked the flower bracelet on his wrist if it made Harry happy.


	4. ❁3❁

First of all, Harry loved Liam, Disney movies, Niall, food, flowers, pretty things, and comfortable clothes. Second of all, he did not want to be forced into a date with Liam's friend. Poor Harry didn't even see it coming, just went home to cook food but seen that there was pasta made, Aladdin in the DVD player, a beautiful bouquet of petunias, Niall and Liam on the couch, and a man with red hair cleaning up a spilt glass. "I like him," Harry heard Niall say when he entered. "Cleans up his own messes. Reckon he could fit in Harry's room?" None of them had seen Harry, just watched as the red-head cleaned up the drink (which was thankfully water otherwise Harry would've had a conniption). Finally, Harry cleared his throat with a confused smile, taking off his light jacket and folding it onto the armrest of the couch.

"Who's this?"

"Ed," Liam said.

"Eddy," Niall says.

"Edwardo."

"E-rizzle."

"E-dawwwg."

"Main man Edwin," said Niall.

they all looked at Niall, Harry's hands in his pockets, E-rizzle laughing and standing up with napkins galore in his hands.

"Hello, E-dawwg, I'm Harry." He outstretched his hand towards Ed, but then pulled it back when he noticed that Edwardo couldn't exactly shake his hand. "Here, let me help you. What happened?"

"I was trying to prove to Niall that I could balance a full glass of water on my forehead. Let's just say I owe Niall ten pounds now."

Harry laughed, leading him into the kitchen and showing him where the trash can was. Ed was short and had a big sweater on and looked extremely cuddly and cute.

"My name isn't Edwin, by the way. I go by Ed."

"Of course, yeah. Niall's just . . . Niall," Harry mumbled, crossing his arms with a shy smile.

"That oddly makes perfect sense," Ed laughed, his eyes on Harry with an admirable smile. "I like your hair—so curly."

Harry felt his cheeks flood with heat, his eyes averting down to the floor to hide his smile. Such small compliments get Harry like this; he loves compliments, loves nice people. Ed is nice, and Liam was right to hook him up with a nice guy like him. Harry didn't reply, didn't know what to say, as strange as it sounds. The littlest of compliments get him all red and flustered and clumsy. When he made his way back to the living room, Niall was on the floor, Liam by the edge of the couch, so Harry told Ed to make himself comfortable wherever he'd like, which was beside Liam in the middle of the sofa. Harry left to change into his favorite pair of sweatpants and sweater. His sweater was of Grumpy from Snow White, gray, and huge and very soft. His sweatpants matched the dark gray color of the sweatshirt. He's very content now—nervous, but content. Harry was always the nervous type around pretty boys that were interested in him. Although Ed was very cute, he still couldn't help but think about how Louis looked adorable in that flower bracelet he made. But right now, he decided to make Liam happy and try this date thing with Ed—if that's what this is.

Once he was out of his room and taking the seat beside Ed, Liam automatically stood up and yawned, stretching and groaning, taking a look at his watch. "Wow, I am beat. So tired. Got a test tomorrow, so I better get to bed. Niall? C'mon," said Liam, kicking Niall's foot.

Niall groaned, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and gesturing towards the TV screen which was beginning to play the intro to the movie. Every time a Disney movie played and that intro music started, the castle appearing, fireworks going off, and Tinker Bell's fairy dust sprinkling around it, it made Harry not only happy, but squealing happy and jittery happy. Disney movies are his favorite.

"But the movie is just now starti—"

Liam gave Niall a death glare.

Niall got up with a few very bad words that Harry didn't even want to repeat in his head, begged Liam to bring the chips with him, making Liam say something about crumbs, but Niall got his way and hurried into their room. It just now occurred to Harry that they possibly left on purpose.

"Oh, yeah," Ed randomly said, reaching towards the coffee table to grab the bouquet of purple petunias to hand to Harry.

Harry shoved the sleeves of his shirt past his hands and raised them up to his face to hide his pink cheeks, giggling cutely as he stared at the flowers. It's been so long since someone had given Harry flowers, always being the one to give them than receive them, so what Ed did was so thoughtful that Harry tears up and accepted the bouquet gratefully. "Thank you so much, that's so so so nice of you to do, oh my God."

"I heard you like flowers, so . . . Yeah," he awkwardly laughed, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. "Oh, and Liam made you pasta, if you want some."

"Thank you, again, and yeah, I'll—"

"DON'T HAVE SEX ON THE COUCH, THAT'S WHERE I—Liam, what are you—ow! Don't throw that at—hey, stop!"

Harry's jaw dropped from embarrassment, eyes shutting and a soft sigh passing through his lips as he rested the flowers back on the coffee table. What made it even worse is when Liam walked out of the bedroom with a light laugh, acting like he didn't do anything, but then he tugs Niall out of the room with a necktie tied around Niall's mouth, hands knotted up with duct tape as he silently follows Liam to the bathroom down the hall. Harry caught a few words and tried to settle deep in the couch to disappear, because those words were: "Liam, I can't pee wif these shtupid things 'round my hands, ya—"

"Niall, I can't understand you."

"Becaush the tie's in my mouf."

Harry wished that the night was over so he could sleep off this humiliation, but it made it better when Ed laughed, shoulders shaking and eyes closing. He's really a nice guy and he likes Aladdin as much as Harry does, even sang along to him during the song A Whole New World when it played, and Harry really liked Ed's voice and Ed really liked Harry's voice. They got along really well; sang the songs, cried about the Genie when he wasn't going to be a free Genie, laughed, gripped onto Ed when the fights happened, and sighed sadly when it was over. Harry gave Ed a friendly kiss on the cheek and walked him to the door, thanked him for the flowers, exchanged numbers, and when he was gone, he ran into Liam and Niall's room, jumped on the bed, laid in the middle, and cuddled with both of them, satisfied, until he fell asleep.

♡♡♡

Harry was going to do it; he was going to get that tattoo. It's for a very good reason, too. For the UK Cancer Research, 'You Booze, You Lose.' He's very excited. When he entered the tattoo shop, he walked straight to the desk in the middle of the room, greeted by a man with dark, black hair, pretty brown eyes, tattoos on his arms, and an old phone in his hand.

"'Sup," the man greeted, putting his old Nokia phone down to give Harry his full attention. "Hey, you're that guy that sells flowers out there. Sick. I'm Zayn."

Harry smiled at Zayn, hands digging further into his coat pockets as he stared at him. Zayn was very handsome, and that made Harry very nervous. The thing that helped him was the aura the dark-eyed boy gave off. He was calm, relaxed, and very . . . chill. "M'Harry, nice to meet you."

"Cool, cool. So, want a tattoo?"

"Harry?"

Harry's smile widened when he turned to Louis, who was walking out of a room in the back, and then joined Zayn behind the counter. "What're you doing here, you don't work today."

He knows what days I don't work on, Harry thought, mouth drying up as he stared. Louis looked so good today, and his voice always seemed to send little butterflies into Harry's stomach. No other guy made Harry this nervous and high when he simply just talked to him. It's a wonderful feeling and he never wants it to stop. "Um," Harry murmured, eyebrows furrowing as he looks around the room. "Oh, yeah, I'm here to get a tattoo."

"Sick," Zayn said.

Louis nodded and Zayn turned to leave from behind the desk, but Louis grabbed his forearm and stopped him, saying, "I've got this," and then motioning for Harry to come back into the hallway. Harry looked around the room, eyeing the people who looked rather bored in their chairs, but followed Louis into the tattoo shop even more. He didn't expect Louis to be the one to give him the tattoo, so this situation is even more nerve-wracking. There was a buzz going throughout the hallway when he walked down it, Louis' own private room in the very back and on the left. His room was nice and clean and decorated with shirtless men and women with tattoos scattered across their body that scared Harry too much to want to look at.

"So, Harry," Louis started, sitting down in a chair by a desk.

Harry awkwardly stood in the doorway with his hands still in his coat pockets, waiting for an instruction. Louis motioned to the coat rack beside the door and Harry immediately started to shrug off his coat, glad to have it off since it was oddly hot in here.

"You can sit," Louis mumbles, hitting the gray chair lazily. Harry did. "Okay, what would you like? Flowers? Butterflies—"

"I've already got one."

"Rainbows . . . Wait—you have a tattoo of a butterfly?" Louis was laughing and then grabbed Harry's arm which rested on the armrest and Harry almost passed out because he wasn't expecting Louis' palm to be so warm but the tips of his fingers to be so cold and for it to send a feeling straight to the pit of his stomach and settle there before feeling the butterflies fly off and make his legs go numb. Louis was searching for the tattoo, raising his shirt sleeve up with his cold fingertips which dragged across Harry's skin and made him get goose bumps. "Where is it? I don't see it anywhere."

"Because it's right here," Harry weakly said, patting the middle of his chest.

"Yeah, right," Louis laughed, snorting on purpose.

"No, really, it is. Look," Harry said, hooking his index finger underneath the hem of his shirt and quickly raising it up. He thought nothing of it, just wanted to prove to Louis that he actually had a tattoo of a butterfly on his body. Louis stared with hooded eyes and pursed lips, eyes blinking quickly as he nodded and swiftly looked away.

"Right, well. You can put your shirt down now. Okay, back to business; what tattoo do you want?"

Harry did, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Sorry, don't know why I did that . . . I want the words, 'You Booze, You Lose' like, um, right here." He patted the crook of his elbow and nodded.

"Cool, cool. I'll be right back, hang on."

Harry was definitely screwed because now Louis would see Harry so vulnerable and crying (he cries almost every time he gets a new tattoo, but it's so worth it) and he'll be touching him, like really touching him with those cold fingertips of his. For some reason, it just hit Harry that he noticed the flower bracelet still around Louis' pretty wrist and that alone almost made Harry start crying. Louis likes Harry's flower crown bracelet he gave him and hasn't taken it off yet. Louis and his blueblueblue eyes and his fringed hair and adidas jacket made Harry feel so warm and fuzzy and he could literally just go to sleep right now because just knowing that Louis left that on made him happier than he's been around Louis in the two month's he's known him.


	5. ✿4✿

Harry trusted Louis greatly to do just swell on this tattoo, especially since Louis drew out the tattoo, added a wicked looking font and bottle to it, but Harry was still nervous. Why? Because Louis' distracted. Apparently, he's great at multitasking and can talk to this pretty girl with dark hair and dark eyes while doing the tattoo. Harry didn't know this girl, hasn't seen her before, and is incredibly saddened by the fact that they could be dating. They get along so well, both of them seeming to have the exact same sense of humor (Harry's discovered that their sense of humor isn't exactly appropriate), and she's really pretty.

"Dude, no, like, the guy was like—" She laughed, snorted, hunched over and nearly spilt her drink as she told this story.

Harry was listening intently, trying to ignore the pain the needle's inflicting onto him.

"Like, like, like—that's all I ever hear from you, Madeline," Louis mumbled, pulling the needle away, only to place it back and resume on the tattoo.

"Well, maybe if you'd shut up for once, I'd be able to finish one stinkin' story I tell, you heifer."

"Did she just call you a cow?" Harry asked, but none of them were listening to the confused boy.

"And don't say Madeline, it's Mads—"

"That's because she's insane," Louis noted to Harry quietly.

"Stop whispering about me. I know I'm beautiful, but c'mon," she proceeded to make her sarcasm even better by flipping her hair off her shoulder.

"Ow," Harry muttered, scrunching his face up in pain but refusing to cry. He can't cry—that would just be so humiliating.

"My beauty hurts him."

"Almost done now, Harry."

"Harry. That's your name." She grabbed her chair that she'd been sitting in and pulled it closer to the dentist-like chair Harry was sprawled out on, placing it closer to his to talk to him. "Your eyes are so green, wow. Got a girlfriend? Bet you do—"

"And even if he doesn't, I'm sure he still wouldn't be interested in you," Louis interrupted.

She gave him the finger absentmindedly, a mocking smile on her lips, and continued, "She treatin' ya nice?"

"Mads, you're very nice and pretty—" Louis snorts, "but, actually, I'm not . . . um, well . . . attracted to the opposite sex. But you're wonderful, really. I'm sure you have guys flocking to you and stuff. And I'd give you some beautiful sunflowers because you remind me of them, but I don't have anything with me and I'm not working today, so I'm sorry."

It's awfully quiet after that, the tattooing coming to a stop, all eyes on Harry, and he felt too uncomfortable even breathing, so he didn't. He came out at sixteen, has been out for a while, so telling someone that he's gay has never really been a problem. But the thing is, he doesn't know if Louis' like him. He could be straight for all Harry knows and that's sort of eating him alive. Harry's always hated turning down girls that are nice and cute, just because he's so nice and hates to see people upset, but Madeline didn't react that way. She scoffed and crossed her arms, eyes gluing to her shoes, and the one to break the silence was Louis and his loud laughter. For the first time, Harry didn't like the idea of his laughter coming after he said that. It's truly very rude.

But then, Madeline muttered, "every time," which had Louis laughing even more.

"This always happens to you, oh my God," Louis laughed, eyes watering from just how funny this situation is. Harry's offended.

"I know, first you then him. God. Why do all pretty guys have to be gay? Why can't one, really nice and genuine guy, be straight? This just isn't fair at all."

"Sorry," Harry quietly said, eyes falling down to the trousers he's wearing.

"Louis, you offended him. Cheer him up. Look at him. Wow, he kinda looks mad now, I think I should stop talking."

"M'not mad."

"You're upsetting the guy, Madeline. Jesus, now you've got him mad."

"M'not mad."

"Hey, you don't have any room to talk. You probably make him mad all the time; I know you make me mad nearly every time I see you. I hate you, Louis, I really do."

"M'not mad, guys."

"Remember that one time you tried to kiss me? Wasn't so mad at me then, were you?"

"Really? You're going to bring that up? I didn't know you were gay, cut me some slack here!"

"God, I remember it so vividly. 'Kiss me, Louis, I love you. I have sexual fantasies of you all the time and I dream of running away together to the Bahamas and starting a family where I can—'"

"I never once said that, you stupid idiot."

"Guys! I'm not mad!" Harry shouted, trying to get their attention. Now he's offended and upset and just wants to get this all over with. "Are you almost done, Louis?" He tiredly asked, turning his head to face him. Louis' eyebrow were raised, gloves off and stuff put away. Louis nodded slowly, wrapped Harry up with a confused expression, and gave him a slight wave as a signal that he was officially done. "Thank you," Harry sighed out, now upset at himself for reacting that way. He didn't even get the chance to see the now finished tattoo.

"Pay at the front desk," Louis instructed.

Harry got up with a frown and nodded, giving a forced smile to the both of them, a thank you to Louis, and then he was out of there, paying the needed money on his way out. He didn't mean to react that way, he was just fed up with being ignored and it seemed like they were making fun of him. But the good news is that Louis is gay and Harry might have a chance with him. Once his coat was on and he exited the shop, he felt someone grab the back of his collar and tug at it, making him clumsily stumble backwards and grunt, turning around quickly to see who made him almost fall back. It was Madeline.

"Hey, man," she nodded, a piece of gum in her mouth. She didn't have a coat on and she had the sleeves of her shirt pushed up, revealing her tattoos. It's beginning to rain and it's actually fairly cold right now. If he knew it was going to rain he would've brought an umbrella.

"Hello, Madeline. Did you need something?"

"Yeah, your number."

Harry shifted his weight onto his left foot and furrowed his eyebrows.

"I know, you like guys. God, don't look at me like that. There's gonna be a surprise party for Louis because he didn't get fired for a full six months here. That's celebratory enough, right? I want you there because you seem to like him and might be a good influence on him. So, yeah. Give me your number and I'll try to not flirt with you too much because damn," she quickly said, eyes trailing up and down Harry's body.

Harry giggled and shook his head, cheeks flushing as he grabbed her phone to put in his number. As he typed his name, he added the little pink flower emoji beside it and handed it back with a grin. He wants to see Louis out of the tattoo shop and at a party. How did she know he liked Louis? Was it that obvious? Yeah, he got flustered and pink-cheeked around him, yeah he made his palms sweat, and yeah, he wondered what it felt like to be held by Louis, but surely it wasn't that obvious.

Harry waited for Mads to text him once he got home. Liam and Niall had ordered pizza and curled up together to watch Die Hard. Harry didn't like that movie, so he ate half a slice of pizza and went into his room, got underneath the covers until you could only see him from his nose up, and clutched his phone tightly. Maybe Harry could ask Louis for his number sometime soon. Even if Louis doesn't like Harry, he'd be more than happy to just be friends. Friends with Louis seems interesting and fun, really. Maybe he could kiss him here and there—out of simple friendship, of course—hug him, touch him all over like his stomach. His stomach seems cute. Louis really is cute and Harry wants to hold him so close until he can't breathe. It's then he realizes that being friends with Louis would never work out and that it would hurt so much if he couldn't hold him and kiss him and sit back and watch someone better than Harry—smarter than Harry—love Louis. Harry's scared and dropped out of college and wants Louis so much that it physically hurts him right now. He doesn't know what to do, so he just falls asleep with his phone in his hand, still expecting that text.


	6. 4½

[Bonus chapter! if these chapters have "½" on it, then know it's in Louis' POV. enjoy! *don't expect these to be long. they're not supposed to be full chapters, hence the "½"]

"Okay, I get it. You like Harry, now can we stop talking about him? I'm on my break and would like to relax." Truth is, Harry really is a lovely guy and Louis doesn't mind talking about him, but Madeline is getting far too annoying for him to forget the way Harry's big, innocent eyes got upset with him for just laughing. Okay, maybe that wasn't what Harry was really mad at, but Louis didn't know what he was. He seems to always upset everyone and he hasn't got a clue as to why.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" She asked, stealing a fry from Louis' plate.

He hit her hand and rolled his eyes, but then acted like she was an animal (maybe a seal or a dolphin) and began throwing fries into her open mouth, only a trace of a small smile on his lips. "Nothing. My panties are perfectly fine."

"You wear panties."

"Only occasionally . . . Hey, they're really soft. You know what? Get out, get out right now. I'm done with you," Louis said, pointing to the door with his lips pressed together.

"Shut up. Let's get back to Harry and how I would definitely tap that if he was straight. Maybe I can turn him straight, yeah? Might like the boobs."

Louis gagged loudly and turned to look away when she cupped them in her hands. This was disgusting and Louis still didn't understand why they're friends. "No," is all Louis could muster, because ew. "You'd tap anything. Remember that thirty—"

"Do you really wanna bring that up?"

"You had a sugar daddy."

"Okay, changing the subject now. You're hot, Harry's hot, why haven't you gone after him?" She asked, grabbing the rest of Louis' burger when she noticed he wasn't eating it anymore and eating it herself.

Louis was about to protest, but he knew it was pointless and just decided to ignore it. "I didn't know he was gay." And, boy was that the biggest lie he's ever told. He definitely knew. The guy has a flower stand for Christ's sake and practically turned into an apple when Louis said anything to him. Louis just . . . didn't like him that way. He liked messing with him. He's cute, tall and clumsy, and is definitely a real life Bambi, but he wanted to avoid relationships and anything that would lead to it. Like, what the hell, Louis would do anything for the boy if he seen that frown and pout Harry did a couple of days ago with the whole flower bracelet thing. He knew it was bad then, knew if he liked him that it would be even worse, and he's not a softy. He's a man who doesn't need a cute boyfriend that's always happy. He's a punk. Harry's a flower child; Louis' reckless, Harry's smart and kind. Too many cons in that. It wouldn't work out. Harry could do better than Louis and everyone knows it.

"Is this because of that one guy . . . what was his name . . . Ah! Matt, yeah. Matt?"

"No," Louis stood up and shook his head, hands balling up into fists. Now he's angry; how dare she bring Matt up in a moment like this. Matt is a son of a bitch and doesn't want to ever talk about him as long as he lives. "Don't bring him up, ever again."

"Okay, okay; sorry, I won't. Chill, Louis, chill."

Okay, Louis knows how to calm down once worked up from that son of a bitch named Matt, but when someone tells him to chill? No way. It's not like saying 'chill' will actually make him chill, it will only piss Louis off even more. And now he can feel it—that itch to pull out a cigarette and smoke it, feel it relax his entire being and make him think clearly. So he grabs his coat and searches his pockets, so in need to have it soothe him and feel it fill up his lungs that it wasn't acceptable. Yes, Louis was taught that smoking was bad—who wasn't?—but once he grew up, it was his outlet. It calmed him down. It made him content for that little moment. And he needed it more than anything right now, needed to feel calm and content. Once he had his lighter and box of cigarettes, he was out of the building faster than the Flash himself could.

\+ + +

Two days later, he was walking home, and Louis had a very long day, and currently, he wanted to do nothing but strip down to his boxers, drink a bottle of coke, and watch whatever action movie that was playing on television. Maybe have a TV dinner or two. He lived alone in a crappy, one bedroom apartment; the living room and kitchen was divided up by a bar. It wasn't anything special, but it's only himself, so why try and get something nice and out of his price range just for looks? It's not like he ever really had anybody over, anyway. He liked loneliness, got used to it.

As he made his way to his door (the damn thing was always so hard to open. Once it was unlocked, he had to jiggle the knob, pull up on it, and shove a shoulder into it to get it to budge. He tried talking to his landlord about it, but it was always the same excuse "We're busy right now, but we will get to you very soon." Such bullshit.), he grabbed his keys, unlocked it, and preceded the usual opening-door routine.

Louis didn't bother turning on the lights, just flung his keys onto the countertop in the kitchen. But the lack of lighting didn't make him blind to the dark colored hair pulled up into a bun, sticking above the other side of the bar. He also heard giggles, and when he rounded the bar, the lights flicked on, people jumped out, and Louis nearly fell back into the fridge due to a heart attack. Frightened and unbelievably shocked, he eyed the place, eyebrows scrunched together, and started laughing when they all yelled surprise.


	7. ❁5❁

Two days had passed before Harry had gotten that text from Mads. It's not like he was clinging to his phone 24/7 and jumped to grab it every time it buzzed. But once he did get it, he nearly shouted and spilled his coffee all over himself. He didn't know whether or not to get him a present, a gift card—or anything at all—so he just continued texting Madeline on what it was all going to be like. Casual. Just casual. He liked casual, is comfortable with casual, so he had put on a pair of black skinnies and a button-up flamingo shirt that Liam had gotten him for Christmas. His shoes were brown boots, of course, and his hair was in a bun (he found this new style to be really cool and it kept the hair out of his face), and really, he'd never been so excited about a little party before in his life.

When he had arrived, the door was open and a lot of people were there. A lot. And, okay, he'll admit he's not the best around people—especially if they're covered in tattoos and piercings and look as scary and unapproachable as they do—but he actually felt embarrassed and too out of place for this. Harry has a lot of tattoos, yeah, but they're not like . . . terrifying. His hands were already beginning to sweat, and all he could think of was just how much he wished Liam or Niall could've come. No, he's not going to have an anxiety attack over trying to talk to scary looking people, but having to talk to new people in general. At the moment, the room was packed (it was too tiny not to be packed), and they were all chilling in the living room, so Harry quietly made his way into the kitchen and settled between crook of the countertop, hands lacing together, and eyes darting down to his shoes. He felt bad for judging the people already, being scared of them. It wasn't nice and Harry only does nice. But he's still too scared to talk to anyone, unless they approach him of course, so he just stays in the corner of the kitchen, slightly punishing himself for thinking such thoughts.

"Dude, like—I don't even know how to explain it. Crazy, that's the word; crazy," someone said while entering the kitchen, a snort coming from his lips soon after.

Harry tensed up and pulled his phone out, deciding that if he looked busy, then he wouldn't look weird and awkward by himself. Well, just not as much as an awkward weirdo.

"Aye, Gary, right?"

Harry ignored, figuring the boys were talking to someone else. But they weren't. Zayn and a friend had walked into the kitchen, without Harry knowing since he didn't care to look up. Zayn knew the name didn't feel right rolling off his tongue, didn't suit the hairy boy (his hair was long enough to be put into a bun, so yeah, he's hairy), but then it all fit together and he held out the beer-filled hand, glad to have gotten his name right in his mind. "Wait, it's Harry! Right, sorry about that, man."

"Huh?" Harry looked up, raised his eyebrows and smiled at Zayn, and slid his phone in his back pocket. "Hey, Zayn, yeah, hey. How're you?" He asked, grinning widely because he actually knows one person here.

"Good, yeah. This is Josh; Josh, Harry. Harry, Josh." They shook hands. "I didn't know you and Louis were this close."

"Hm? Oh, well. Madeline actually invited me and all . . ." He muttered, pursing his lips.

"Ah, I see. Funny girl, but she's like the girl version of Louis. Yikes. One is enough sometimes, but she's pretty chill. Understanding, unlike Louis can be at times. Great guy, though, great guy."

Harry hums in agreement and looks over at the counter-top, the drinks in sight, and the thought of having one to loosen him up just a tad doesn't sound so bad at all. Very good, actually. Not a lot, since he doesn't want to go home drunk, but maybe one will be good. Just one.

"Want a drink?" Zayn asked, having caught Harry's staring.

"Er, yeah. That'd be nice, yeah." Zayn reached for a beer and Harry made a face; Zayn raised an eyebrow and moved his hand over to the next set of drinks, awaiting Harry's reaction on them, and when his hand hovered over Mike's Hard Lemonade, Harry slightly smiled and gladly accepted it. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"Guys," Josh says, snorting. "Someone is completely destroying Louis' room. Well, not destroying, just like messing with his stuff and—"

"Someone's in his room?" Zayn asked. "Agh, no, no one's supposed to go in there! Idiots, they're all idiots." And then they were both leaving, Josh trying not to laugh behind Zayn, and Zayn not trying to punch everyone in his way.

Harry had already opened his drink, swigging it, enjoying the sour taste. It's actually one of his favorite alcoholic drinks. It's not too strong, and it tastes really, really good. He'd never been big on alcohol, didn't like being drunk and what he felt like after he was drunk. People do crazy and idiotic things when drunk, so he always tried to steer clear of that stuff. Occasionally, he would have a few drinks, maybe get a little tipsy, but nothing else. He vowed to himself that he would never really get drunk unless it was for a celebration or just out of sadness.

About fifteen minutes had passed and Harry had drunk his entire beverage. When someone was telling everyone to be quiet and to get down because Louis was coming, Harry just started giggling and ducked, on his knees now behind the counter. He hasn't been to a party in a while, especially a surprise one. It's awfully cute, everything about this. Harry was giggling so much that he had to slap a hand over his mouth and attempt to conceal his girlish laughter. (He'd always giggle when lying or hiding, that's why he was never good at Hide-n-Seek as a child). And then the door groaned open and a loud, out of beat, chorus of "surprise!" was yelled out. Harry jumped up a little too late, yelled surprise when it had already been yelled, but still giggled happily and reached for another lemonade drink. Louis just looked wonderful, Harry thought to himself. He just stumbled back into the fridge—confused at first—but then just started laughing. Harry noted that Louis had looked a bit tired, exhausted, hair lying down on his forehead in a messy fringe, a lazy smile on his face, but he still looked happy nonetheless. That definitely made Harry happy.

People had immediately swarmed around the boy, tugging him into the living room, shoving a drink in his hand and getting him nice and comfortable. He looked at peace and Harry wasn't the one to disturb that peace. He was content enough with just seeing him happy. He nearly forgot about the small gift in his pocket. (Nobody was supposed to get him anything, since they're all just celebrating Louis not being fired, but Harry couldn't help himself when he was shopping and stumbled across this—quite literally—and bought it for Louis.)

\+ + +

Harry was having fun. He had drunk about five glasses of Mike's Hard Lemonade (his conscience left after the third one), and the alcohol made him want to mingle and not be in a corner for the entire night. Louis was still busy talking to his friends and Harry is sort of jealous that he has so many, so many people that care for him and like to talk to him and won't call him annoying and push him away when he wants to cuddle after a bad dream. Harry hadn't felt like this in a while, hasn't been drinking alcohol in God knows how long, really, so even a few of Mike's Hard could get him like this. He sure was mingling now; going up to strangers and giggling at their nose piercings and asking why they got neck tattoos but then said it looked cool. A lot was going on with him, drifting from person to person, somebody shoving one drink in his hand. Harry thought it was water when he took a large swig, but he didn't understand why water would taste like literal fire in a can when you gulped it down. People liked Harry because he acted like a cute, little teenager when pissed.

Currently, Harry was walking away from a boy with another awesome tattoo on the back of his neck that spread out in wicked flames when he spotted Louis on the sofa with water in his hand, all alone. And this is it, this is Harry's moment to shine, so clumsily, he made his way over to Louis, nearly toppling on top of him when he tripped over his own two feet. "Louis!" He shouted. Louis winced when Harry yelled in his ear. "Okay, Lou, I've got it, my next tattoo." Harry leaned up on the sofa and turned so his back was to Louis, tugging his shirt up and over his head without another thought. "Right there, right on the middle of my back, I want a bouquet of cornflowers, okay? Pretty purple ones, and—" Harry tried to touch his back so he could show Louis exactly where he wanted it. "Like, around the flowers—ooh! No, now I want carnations. Anyway, around the flowers, I want flames. Big flames like that one guy has over there." Harry sat back, shirt on the floor, and a content look on his face as he laced his fingers together. "What do you think?"

Louis stared at Harry, lips only slightly parted, eyebrows furrowed, trying to process what just happened. "Er," he started, scratching his jaw lazily and focusing on Harry's stomach. "You're very drunk, Haz, how about you just put your shirt back on, yeah?"

Harry literally gasped and turned to Louis, possibly getting closer to the pretty boy (if that was even possible) because Louis called Harry Haz and it was the cutest thing he's ever heard. "What did you call me?"

Louis started to scoot away from Harry, feeling just a tad uncomfortable. "Um, Haz. Just put your shirt on, Harry. Don't make me tell you again."

Harry childishly rolled his eyes and muttered, "Fine, daddy." Of course, though, he didn't mean it that way, but Louis processed it that way and gulped. After Harry struggled putting on his shirt, then realized that unbuttoning, putting it on, and then buttoning it back would've been better after he put it on the hard way, he only huffed and crossed his arms.

Two minutes had passed without either of them saying anything. Harry still had his arms crossed, bottom lip sticking out and chin tucked into his chest, waiting for Louis to say something to him.

"Harry, why the fuck are you pouting?"

That made Harry only huff and turn his head away.

"Harry. Seriously? You are a child."

That surely didn't help Louis. Now Harry's on the verge of tears.

"Harry—dear God, are you crying? What did I even do?!"

That made his lip quiver.

"Har—Haz," Louis softly spoke, "Is it because I'm being so stern with you? You're drunk, Harry, completely pissed." Harry made an "hmph" noise at that. Louis sighed. "Fine, okay, I'm sorry. All right? I'm sorry."

"You remind me of a bear."

"What?"

"You're like a little cub—cute and stuff when you're upset, and then you get really sweet and you've got a cute nose. You're a bear. M'gonna nickname you bear, now. 'Cause they're cute, just like you." Harry took Louis' silence as a good thing and then put his head on his shoulder. "Cuddly bear. Comfy bear. My bear."

Louis blinked and furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah? Well, you remind me of a little kitten. Always wanting my attention, purring and shit when you get it—hell, bet if I petted you, you'd literally purr. You're a life-sized kitten."

"Your kitten!" He excitedly said.

Louis only rolled his eyes. "Kitten, go home. Can't someone come and pick you up?"

Harry shook his head and tried to lie on top of Louis to get comfortable. "Nuh-uh. I'm all alone, bear, all alone."

Louis frowned and decided to let Harry do whatever he pleased.


	8. ✿6✿

The fact that the bed is comfortable and didn't smell like his scented laundry detergent was definitely one of the things that made Harry confused when he woke up. When he opened his eyes, he eyed the white ceiling, and then looked around the room, spotting gray walls and a room with a single window. A lamp was on, so that made the room light up just a little more. It really was just a mess. Clothes were draped across a recliner shoved in the corner, all over the floor, towels and shoes in heaps on the floor. Harry wanted nothing more than to clean up, put clothes in a hamper, and put the guy's shoes away. But he didn't; he arose slowly, fisting the sheets that matched the walls, and pulled them away. His head hurt and he didn't know whose room this was and he is beyond confused and shirtless. He's shirtless and he doesn't have pants on either. He only has socks and underwear and he feels too awkward and embarrassed to walk out of the room.

"God," he muttered, running a hand through his hair and groaning. He stood there for a good minute before realizing his clothes were at the end of his bed, folded neatly, so he put them on and decided to leave the room to see who he wound up sleeping with.

Once left the room he immediately knew where he was. It opened up into the living room, and of course it's Louis' place. Where else would he be? With his hand on his head and a pouty groan passing through his lips, he spotted Louis behind the kitchen counter shoving a trash bag into the trashcan (Harry nearly fell over because Louis' shirtless), a cigarette between his lips, and empty cans of beer in his hands. Louis hadn't noticed Harry; if he did, he would've definitely tried making fun of him for last night. Harry honestly acted like a child.

"Hey," Harry finally says, voice raspy and deep.

Louis turned his head after putting the cans in the trash, eyebrows furrowed as he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth. Slowly, he eyed Harry—which left him awkwardly playing with his fingers while his cheeks turned a different color—and then tried to match that pure sex voice with the adorable little Harry he's supposed to be. "Hi."

"Um, uh. Where do you keep the aspirin?"

"Ahh," Louis muttered, heading over to the cabinet above the sink. "Do remember what you did last night?"

Harry sat on the bar stool and shook his head, watching Louis stand on his tippy toes to reach the medicine in the back of the cabinet. It was a very good sight to see for Harry. So many tattoos; it's beautiful. And he's tan and slim and his collarbones look so good, so kissable and he wants to run his tongue over the 'It Is What It Is' tattoo and bite his neck and kiss his abdomen. But above all, he wants to hold him tightly. He wants to wrap his arms around his body and make Louis laugh and stare at those blueblue eyes all day and kiss his lips and make him food and tell him his jokes. That's what he wants. "Er," Harry mumbled, shaking a hand through his hair. It was then when he realized that he tried talking Louis into giving him a crazy tattoo. "Oh no; did I talk you into giving me a tattoo?"

Louis laughed, and really, he looked like a bunny; his nose scrunching up and hair so fluffy looking. Harry smiled out of adoration. "No, but you were very, very persistent." Louis flipped a bottle over in his hand before nodding his head and turning to Harry. "Nearly cried—water?" Harry nodded. "—when I told you to put your shirt back on."

Harry face-palmed. "No way. Seriously? I took my shirt off?"

Louis laughed, grabbed a bottled water, and then nodded. "Mhm, sure did, kitten."

Harry widened his eyes and choked on his own saliva, only now remembering what he had said to Louis about the nickname. The nickname made his heart flutter, made him feel important to Louis in some way. "Jesus. What happened to me last night," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

"I dunno. You acted like you've never been drunk--it was cute." Louis handed Harry the water and medicine.

The curly haired boy raised an eyebrow, ignoring how Louis called him cute, and just shrugged, accepting the stuff with a quiet thank you. "Don't really like it."

"Alcohol?"

Harry hummed out a yes and took the aspirin, washing it down with his water. "Yeah."

"Why not?" Louis asked, resting his elbows against the counter top, facing Harry with his brows drawn in.

Harry shrugged, looked away, and then spun lightly in his chair. "Do you know where my phone is?"

"Way to avoid the question. I do, Harry, I do. But . . . You have to tell my why you're not big on alcohol. Is it the taste? The hangovers?"

"Can you please just give me my phone?"

"OOH! You said please. You're begging me to give it to you, nice. This has gotta be good, then."

"Louis, my friends are probably worried since I didn't come home and no one is there to cook for them and they're probably so, so worried." Harry hadn't even realized he'd repeated himself. He didn't want to answer the question and he just wanted his phone back.

Louis wasn't even listening to him, just stroking his chin in thought. "Is it a Christian thing? Are you a Christian, Haz?"

"Louis, stop. Give me my phone, I'm not going to talk about this. Give me what is mine and I will get out of your un-brushed hair quickly and quietly."

Louis stared at Harry, face blank, eyes roaming his smooth face, before smirking and nodding. "Whoa, I pissed you off. You get feisty, awesome. Strange to see, coming from you, but awesome nonetheless." Louis pushed himself off the counter and shoved his hand into his sweats, pulling out Harry's phone, and then laying it on the counter. "I texted your friends, by the way. Said you stayed over at mine. You should put a lock your phone. They thought I was you and Niall said to, and I quote, 'get laid nice and hard but pick up pizza on your way back,' nice fellow. Added myself into that group chat, hope you don't mind."

Harry blinked, not even having time to blush by how fast Louis was speaking—how nonchalant he is about it all—until, somehow, the word Ed flew out of his mouth. Harry sat up straight, clutching his phone in his hand, and then frowning when he asked if Ed was his boyfriend. "What?"

"Asked if that Ed guy was your BF. Boyfriend."

Harry scoffed, beginning to stand. "Can't believe you went through my stuff."

"Ohh, so he is?"

"Louis."

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend. Hm."

"I don't have one, you just assumed. Stop that," Harry sighed, pouted, and hunched his shoulders.

"No, no; don't make that face..." Harry frowned, confused, and then tilted his head. "What do you want me to do now? I'm a curious boy." Harry looked down and wrapped his arms around himself. "Dear God, Harry. Okay, okay. M'sorry. There."

Harry smiled and looked over at him, starting to step closer to him. Louis took a hesitant step back, but Harry didn't notice, only kept walking until he was able to wrap his arms around him. Harry's fingers were cold against his warm skin, patting and rubbing Louis' back with a huge grin. He smelled like cigarettes and apples. Normally, that really wouldn't mix well at all, but Harry liked it and nuzzled his face into the crook of Louis' neck and kept clinging to him until he felt Louis' own arms wrap around him tightly. "Apology accepted, Lou."


	9. ❁7❁

Harry had bought the pizza and tried calming himself down during the long walk back. He just knew what was coming, knew that Niall would question him about everything and Liam would be scolding him with his arms crossed—maybe he should just leave the pizza on the doorstep and make a run for it. But he can't, not really, so he might as well face his friends (who are beginning to be more like parents) and get this all over with. So he sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and then pushed open the door. Once the door was open, he made a run for the kitchen in hopes he could hide in there for just a bit. But that clearly didn't work, not with Liam. It's like he can sense misbehaving, and it's really not fair to anyone on this earth.

Liam was the first to enter (Harry should've bet money that he would have his arms crossed like that), eyeing Harry slowly, inspecting him wholly, and Harry imagined him being like Baymax, scanning him for any broken bones or any sign of exhaustion or trauma. Once the scanning was over, Harry exhaled, clutching the pizza box even firmer in his grasp. "I—we—were worried sick about you, Harry. I stayed up nearly the whole night just waiting for a call or a text, and when I got one from this Louis kid I wasn't too happy knowing he had your phone." Harry inhaled and looked away. "You acted so irresponsibly, H. Like a teenager! Coming in at one in the afternoon . . . I should treat you how you're acting, but I won't because you're a grown up. Grown ups do not obsess over a crush like you do, and honestly, I'm worried. It's irregular behaviour, and I just want you to stay away from him. You've known him for almost three months, have spoken about three sentences to each other, and you're practically in love already! You don't even know the boy!"

Harry was wincing. It felt like each word was a literal slap to the face, and he continued to beat him up talking like that. Maybe Harry did obsess over a little crush, but he just likes Louis a lot. He's never been around a person like Louis before so it's fascinating and new. Louis has yet to treat Harry like a little boy like everyone else has so far, so he likes it. Is there anything wrong with that? Apparently there is, since Liam keeps going on about how it's "better for him to just stay away" and "try to be an adult and you'll understand" and Harry won't admit that he's crying, sniffling, but trying to hold it back because men don't cry. "M'sorry," is the only thing he can mutter. He won't try to defend himself, no way. That would just make this whole ordeal bigger than what it actually is and Harry just wants to get away and sulk in his room. "Here's Niall's pizza," he quietly added, sliding it onto the counter top.

+

Liam watched him and tried to hold himself back from spilling apologies. It was always so hard to be stern with Harry. He's never raised his voice like that, never been so mean, but he just needs to stop becoming so attached to people so quickly. Harry's just a delicate flower and needs people that care for him and will nurture him surrounding him.

Once Harry had walked out of the kitchen, he waited some time before walking into the room him and Niall shared together. He found Niall on the bed, a phone in his hand, and uneaten popcorn in his mouth. "Niall." That caught his attention. Immediately, Blondie looked up and the popcorn spilled from his mouth.

"Whoops," Niall muttered, scooping them up and eating them. "Yeah, hey; what's wrong? You look . . . weird. Is Harry home? Did he bring pizza? It better have pep—"

"Niall, please." Niall sat up and furrowed an eyebrow. "Do you know anything about this Louis kid?"

"No, nothing more than you do. Met him once when I went to visit Harry at work, remember? You were with me. Tattooed, short, pretty eyes. Kinda quiet, just smoked outside. Never talked to Harry, really, when we were there. Aren't they friends? I mean, like, he seems pretty cool. Did you not read the group messages? God, he was cracking me up," Niall snorted, beginning to hold up his phone to Liam's face to show him just how funny Louis was.

"Niall," Liam groaned, swatting his hand away. "I don't like him already. Harry's told me everything about him, and what I've heard, I don't like."

"Liam, you don't even know the guy. Leave Harry alone, he's big enough to do whatever he wants—you're not his dad."

"I'm not trying to be his dad! I'm nothing like his father—"

"And I didn't say you were like his father, you're just trying to be . . . a parent. He's not five, leave him be."

"I just don't want his heart broken, Niall," Liam huffed out.

"Shit, do you think I do? The boy wouldn't deserve something like that, but no one does. That's just life, man, and who knows, maybe he actually won't get a broken heart. Hey! Maybe they'll just wind up staying friends and such. Just stop trying to control him. He's smarter than you think, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah," Liam sighed, scratched the back of his neck, and plopped down on the bed with Niall. He wanted to go in Harry's room and apologize for yelling, but he didn't have the courage to. Not after making him cry. So he just laid down, put his head in Niall's lap, and ate the popcorn Niall tried feeding him. Hopefully, Harry is okay.

+

Harry is not okay. Liam yelled at him, called him a child, and what hurts most is that he's right. He doesn't think of himself as a smart person for dropping out of college (what smart person does?), he has to be looked after like a child, and now he sees why he doesn't have much friends. He's just a broken toy no one likes playing with. There's too much to deal with when it comes to Harry. Suddenly, the crying boy needs air, needs someone to talk to that won't judge him or call him a child; his mother. So he wipes his face, stands up, sneaks out of his room, and darts out the door. It's a pretty long walk from here to the graveyard, and he usually takes a taxi, but right now, he wants to walk and clear his mind.

Sometimes Harry doesn't like to be alone when he's upset and sad. His thoughts are so dark and everything bad that has happened to him resurface. It's tough. It' so hard trying to even breathe when every mistake, every negative thing in his life come at him like this. Normally, he has Niall and Liam to talk to when he's feeling like this, but since Liam's the one that caused it, he has no one.

Harry tried to stop his thoughts and focus on how gray the sky is and how nice the wind feels against his skin. He can do that, he can try to not think on the walk to visit his mom. "Oh," Harry muttered as he seen a patch of dandelions growing on the ground. He forgot to bring flowers. Saddened even more because of that, he walks over to the patch of dandelions and picks them, root and all, while crying. He's crying and sad and he misses his mom more than anything right now. Finally, he has reached Hillside Grave, focusing on trying to make the flowers real pretty before he sees his mom's tombstone. But then here he is, standing beside the concrete that has her name written on it. Harry notices that all the flowers he had put on her grave have died away, and he also notices how long it's been since he last visited her and feels really bad.

"Hey, mom," Harry quietly said, bending down to place the dandelions on the ground before sighing deeply. For a moment, he just stared down, hands in his pockets and a huge frown on his face. Everything about her seemed like a distant dream now. Her scent was fading, the sound of her laugh, the way she felt when she hugged so tightly. It's all fading and that's what makes Harry drop to his knees and cry like he just found out she's dead. He misses his mom; she was too good of a woman to just . . . die like that. It's not fair at all. He's about to begin talking to her, ranting and crying some more, but it looks like he can't even do that anymore. It's a soft voice, quiet and delicate—enough for Harry to freeze in place.

"Harry?" The same voice repeated. "Is everything okay?"

It was just then that he realized it's Louis speaking. Of course it is. Harry doesn't know what to do. He came here to get away from people, people like Louis, but then he shows up in the one place he's not supposed to be. Harry's face contorts, tears falling even more, his lower lip between his teeth to hold back unintentional sobs. He feels Louis' hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it off and stands, still not turning around.

Louis decides to just stand beside him, eyeing the grave they're both in front of and reading off it aloud, "Anne Cox; born October 1968, died June 2010. Beloved mother of two. 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou [art] with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me—Psalms 23: 4.'"

Harry sniffles, wipes his nose and continues to look down.

"Harry," Louis starts. "Who is this?"

Harry didn't want to answer or talk to Louis or do anything at all. So, without another word (but a shake of his head), he turns and crosses his arms and leaves. Louis doesn't follow him (probably knows better not to), so it's easier for Harry to get away. He's had his moment and maybe he'll be okay now. As he rounded the corner, he stops, parts his lips, and furrows his eyebrows, because Louis was at the Hillside Graveyard. Why? Why would he be there?


	10. ✿8✿

Harry had taken a taxi to his grandmother's, deciding that it was time for a trip to the garden and to check up on the lady. His grandmother was wealthy; very wealthy. Turns out, their grandfather was practically sitting on a fortune and she got everything when he passed. The house she's in is absolutely huge and has a very big green house in the back where Harry grows his flowers. He absolutely loves spending time here when he can, especially since she always has amazing food prepared. As the taxi began pulling up the driveway, Harry sighed happily, because not only would he be away from everyone and spending time with his dear grandmother, but the flowers. So many beautiful flowers that are waiting on him. He got out, paid the man, and grinned once he turned towards the white, two story house. The gables only made it look bigger and even more expensive, really. Harry always loved how many windows there were; it's so open and beautiful. He couldn't remember exactly how many acres she had bought, but it's enough to make it look like she owns an entire country farm.

Harry didn't even have to knock when he went to the door; she was already waiting on him and greeted him with open arms. And he loved it. This is his home, this woman, the way she seemed to always smell like French lavender and honey, but her home seemed to always smell like she was cooking a breakfast feast is where his home is. And it smells like biscuits and bacon—Harry adored it and buried his face in her neck even more.

"You've grown about ten inches, haven't ya? Jesus, boy, stop growing on me!"

Harry giggled and clutched her tighter.

"Okay, you'll be feelin' those extra five pounds if you keep doing that, Harry."

Harry shook his head and pulled away, kissing her cheek and then letting her go so he could walk into the foyer and take his shoes off. "How've you been, Gran?" He asked whilst taking each shoe off by his heels.

"Good. And lonely, you should visit more often. But what about you? You look thin, come eat so we can talk about your work and your friends and just gossip," she said, beginning walking down the hall. "Ooh, I just love that gossip."

Harry followed after her when his shoes were off, heading into the kitchen with widened eyes once he seen the food that was on the island. "Holy shi—"

"Watch your tongue, there. Help me bring this into the dining room."

Harry did without another word, picking up the basket of rolls and pot of Mac & Cheese. A home-cooked meal he didn't have to prepare himself? Oh, he was in heaven. Carefully, he put down each pot or pan of food, not wanting to accidentally spill anything on the delicate, white tablecloth that was lacey at the ends and had little red flowers to add to its soft look. He was going to ask where she got that, because it's beautiful and maybe he'd find himself something there that he'd like, but his grandmother was already shoving him into a seat and piling his plate full of food and pouring him a glass of sparkling grape juice because she knew it was one of Harry's favorite drinks. He feels like a king. As soon as she's done with Harry, she begins to make herself something, and really, Harry thinks that's just utterly wrong, so he stands, takes her plate away from her, tucks it underneath his arm, and guides her over to her chair. (She started to protest, but Harry wasn't having any of it, so she gave in, let Harry push her chair in once she was nice and comfortable, and began making her a plate of food.)

"How's the business going?"

"Pretty well. I'm saving up for this building that might be good enough for me to buy and make it an official thing."

"Oh, really? Hey, I've got more than enough money, so how about I help out in this?"

That wasn't what Harry wanted at all. Nobody knows he's looking at buying a building and becoming a legitimate florist with his own store and little cards with his contact information. It seems like a dream that's so far away.

"No way, Gran. Nuh-uh. I'll do it all myself, I won't need your money, keep it."

There was a long silence after that and Harry found it rather odd, so he looked up from his plate of food and stopped picking at the elbow-shaped macaroni, only to find his grandmother smiling at him fondly with her chin rested in the palm of her hand. "So proud of you, boy. So, so proud."

And Harry just nearly cried. That's all he's ever wanted to hear. Someone's proud of him—his grandmother is actually proud of him and he's doing something right, apparently, if he is. So maybe he does start crying and she's quickly at his side, rubbing his shoulders softly and soothingly, telling him it's okay to cry and that everyone needs to let it out every once in a while. 

"I just— I'm so—"

"I know, it's okay, Harry. It's okay."

It takes him a moment to settle down, having to wipe his eyes on the soft napkin that was folded into a triangle, and then he was telling his Gran that he loved her and she was saying it back and Harry needed this. He needed someone telling him that he's loved and that someone's proud of him because he thought that he was all alone. Being alone is terrible and it makes him feel worthless and alone and being alone makes him sad because he's alone, and his thoughts are all jumbled together because he can't even think about how awful it feels to be alone, with no one there for you, no one to laugh with or talk to. "I just felt alone," he mutters quietly.

"Oh, sweetie. You're never alone. You've got me, those two friends of yours . . . you're never alone, all right?"

"I miss mom," he sputtered out, then wiped his nose on the napkin.

Gran inhaled softly, ran her soft fingers through his thick hair, and then gave his arm a tug. "Come on. Looks like we won't be eating for a bit, so let's get comfortable in the lounge."

Harry nodded, pouted with his lower lip stuck out, crossed his arms, followed his grandmother into the living room (which was bigger than his own apartment), sat down on the white leather sofa, and Harry just wanted to curl up and fall asleep since this is probably the most comfortable and luxurious thing he's ever rested on before in his life. And it's huge. So huge and soft and pretty. Her living room reminded him of a Victorian styled one, with vintage curtains and a wooden coffee table with a small vase of fake flowers in them. The ceiling, Harry estimated, is about twelve feet tall or more. It amazes him every time he enters her living room by just how beautiful it is.

He didn't talk just yet. He calmed down. And he needed to calm down. Living life is a series of heartbreak and ups and downs (maybe more downs than ups), but the key to living life well is calming down. You can't spasm every time someone hurts you or tries to tear you down. Just breathe. Inhale and exhale and try to keep calm because life can be a beautiful thing if it's given a chance. Poor Harry, though. He doesn't know if he can give it a chance.


	11. 8½

"Bitches come and bitches go, sadly. But we are the new face of tomorrow—of today! We can stop this from happening, this—this pathetic judging of one another." Louis stood on the table with a fist in the air, saying, "let's fight! Let's burn society to the fucking ground! Are you with me?"

The little kids looked terrified. One was crying and cupping their ears, saying "stop yelling!" And a little boy was standing and dancing in his own little world, shouting, "bitches. Fucking bitches. Fuck bitches!"

Madeline was so angry at Louis that Louis imagined her with smoke shooting our of her ears like a cartoon characters would when it was angry. That was Louis' cue to go, because then the teacher came in and had seen the kids going bonkers, so Louis just grabbed Mads' little brother and ran. Left Madeline behind, because it's always going to be boys against girls (and she's really pissed so maybe he'll just drive off and leave her). 

Sadly, though, Madeline caught up to Louis right when he was putting Zeke in the backseat, pulling his seatbelt safely over him right before Louis was grabbed by the back of his shirt and tugged away from his four year old pal.

"Louis William Tomlinson!"

"Oh, no," he said to Zeke unenthusiastically. "Satan used my full name."

"Louis! Stop that! All you had to do was read The Ugly Duckling to those kids and you couldn't even do that without flipping your shit!"

Louis scoffed sarcastically. "One is never too young to fight society." Louis snapped his fingers, shoved Madeline out of the way, shouted shotgun, and hopped into the passenger seat quietly. 

"You are annoying, Louis. So annoying. You act like a child and I'm sick of being your babysitter."

Louis turned in his seat and looked at Zeke, feigning hurt. "Did you hear that? Do you see how mean she is to me?" He wiped at a few tears he worked up from his amazing performance. 

"Fucking annoying!" He shouted. 

Louis laughed, turned back around, and pointed an accusing finger over in her direction, waving it around. 

"No, don't swear, Zeke," she said after pulling out of the parking lot with a sigh. "Bad words are bad and we are not bad, are we?"

"Fucking bitches!"

Louis gasped and turned to face him. "Don't drag my quotes in to this one!"

"Fuck annoying bitches, mhm. Fuck annoying bitches, oh yeah, uh-huh," he sang.

"Louis! You made him put into a song, now he'll go around singing it at home, I hate you. I literally hate you so much."

"But, Madeline," Louis pouted. "Bad words are bad and we are not bad, are we?" He mocked, snorted, and turned to look out the window, mentally saying, "I'm so good."

The rest of the car ride was silent because Madeline was too angry to talk to Louis and Louis was too stubborn to try and break the silence himself. Something about hanging around children make him act like them himself. He likes kids, likes making them laugh and turning them against everyone but himself. Kids are great and cute and innocent. Sometimes Louis wishes he was a kid because it was all so much simpler then. He didn't have to try to get over a boyfriend or ignore phone calls purposely or worry about paying any bills. It was nice then. So, so nice and Louis is actually jealous of Zeke and his friends. He would never say that aloud, though. 

"All right, Zeke. Stay good," Madeline said to him. Louis didn't realize they were already at Mads' parents house until now.

He shifted around in his seat to look at the little kid and give him a thumbs up, winked at him, and said, "good luck fighting society." Zeke laughed (even though the kid didn't know what society was) and nodded, hopping out and slamming the door closed behind him before running up to his house. 

"Not walking him to the door?"

"So my parents can shout at me for teaching him is first bad words? No, thank you."

Louis' top lip lifted up slightly. "I told you not to swear in front of the kid, Mads. Jesus."

"I—"

"Aye, captain! There'll be a storm a brewin', ya scallywags. Best be storin' the rum down in the basement, eh? Aye! Aye!"

"Louis, what the—"

"That's Captain Louis, to ya, lassie."

"Oh, Jesus, Louis. Seriously?"

Louis gasped and Maddy shook her head. "Did you just take Jesus, our Lord and Saviour's name, in vain?"

"I hate my life," she muttered to herself.

+++

Louis was possibly drunk and crying and alone outside on the cool grass. He ran outside because more people were coming inside, so much to the point that Louis couldn't even inhale without it feeling like he was inhaling someone else's breath instead of his own. Okay, he's really drunk and doesn't know what to think and he really is crying. 

"Louis!" That was definitely Zayn. 

Louis just rolled onto his side on the cold grass and whined and whimpered, shaking his head at Zayn even though he hadn't said anything but his name. 

"Jesus, mate, you a'ight there?"

"No," is all Louis could say. He heard Zayn plop down beside him, so Louis fully rolled onto his stomach and rubbed his nose into the dirty, cold ground. 

"Why're you crying?"

Louis just shook his head, which had him rubbing his nose in the dirt even more. He's probably going to look like a chimney cleaner from Mary Poppins when he gets up later on. 

"C'mon, bro."

"Bro! Bro?" Louis shouted, turning his head so that he could look at Zayn. "Stop going to L.A., that places lingo is rubbing off on you." Louis started crying even more.

Zayn sighed, shook his head, nudged Louis with his foot, and sighed again when Louis whined and told him to stop. "You say it, too, don't act all innocent."

Louis choked out a sob.

"Okay, just tell me what's wrong. I've never seen you cry so much before."

Louis decided that turning on his back and looking up at the sky will calm him down. So he did that, inhaled and exhaled, placed a hand behind his head and placed a hand on his heart, and then sighed contently. "Wanna know why I'm cryin'?" Zayn hummed out a yes. "Because . . . Because . . . Female ferrets . . . they just . . . they die if they go into heat and can't find a mate!" Louis yelled out the ending, and a new wave of sadness crashed onto him and he started crying again.

"Wha—?"

"They just . . . die," Louis sobbed out. "Don't you get it? The ferret is me! I'm in heat and I'm going to die without a mate!"

"Dear God—"

Louis cut him off again. "This is so unfair, so completely unfair."

"Lou—"

"I just want someone."


	12. ❁9❁

Harry had accidentally fallen asleep on his Grandmother's sofa; it's not like he could help it, it's just extremely comfortable and he's been very exhausted lately. When he awoken, he felt relaxed and . . . calm. Very calm, actually. Before he did fall asleep, he talked to his grandmother; talked about how sad he was and how his friend was treating him like a child (he may have mentioned Louis as well). Turns out, ranting and just releasing what he had bottled up felt better than expected. Harry felt relieved. And now he feels even better since he's in the green house. Such beautiful plants everywhere.

"Wow," he breathed out quietly, running his finger delicately over some beautiful gerberas.

"I've been taking care of them like how you told me to, so I hope they're doing good."

"Oh my, they're wonderful! I wish I had a green house like this one. There's so many, I might be falling in love with them all over again," Harry giggled out.

"Good, because it's hard tending to them. I'm not getting any younger, y'know, so you best start taking care of them more often."

Harry nods and stands beside his beloved grandmother, slinging an arm around her shoulders and tugging her slightly into his side to kiss her temple. "I know what you're doing, and if you wanted me over some more, all you needed to do is tell me."

"Oh, no. You're young, go out and live. I'll just tend to my garden like the old woman I am."

Harry rolls his eyes, laughing slightly. "It's okay, I love you and want to spend time with you. So I shall, dearest grandmother."

She was about to protest, Harry knew that when her mouth opened, but his phone rang and cut her off. Normally, he would ignore it since it's the polite thing to do, but it's Louis calling him. Louis. He needed to know why, so hesitantly, he answered. "Hello?"

"Harold! You didn't send me to voicemail, mate!" Louis cheerfully shouts.

Harry pulls his phone away slightly, then brings it back to his ear, his grandmother staring up at him suspiciously. "Hi, Lou—" (His grandmother raised her eyebrows, now listening in even more.) "—And that's not my name, but why would I do that?"

"Dunno, man, figured you died or something since you're not at work today."

"Louis, I don't work on Sunday's."

"Good, me either; wanna hang out?"

Louis is very loud so Harry is sure his grandmother can hear everything so far. "Um, I'm actually not home, at the moment . . ."

"Well, get home then, bro, let's party!"

Harry giggled, unable to stop smiling. "No, like, I'm with my grandmother. She lives off in the country; I spent the ni—"

"YOU'RE WITH YOUR GRANDMOTHER?"

"Hey, keep it down. Don't shout—"

"HAROLD, PUT HER ON."

Harry sighs, quietly muttering that it wasn't his name, before giving her the phone. She happily takes it, staring at Harry as they begin to talk. Harry doesn't really think it's a great idea, since, well... Louis doesn't have a filter and he gets rather rude and defensive over small things.

"Louis, hello," she says, still staring at Harry.

"Grandma, how are you?" Louis says to her. (Harry can hear him, and man, he really is loud.)

"I'm swell, boy. And yourself?"

"Oh, I'm just absolutely dandy, Miss. So great. Harry, isn't he lovely? Sweet kid. Me and my friends are getting together and we want Harry to come. These friends are not Liam and Niall, by the way. They aren't worried about Harry and trying to use me to bring him back whatsoever."

Harry sighs, un-attaching himself from his grandmother to occupy himself with the flowers. They weren't exactly ready to bring with himself just yet, so he'd probably come back next week to pick them up.

"Oh, really now? You miss Harry?" That makes Harry listen even more.

"I— It's them— Uh, they want him back and they said only I could convince him to."

Harry sighs, frowns, walks over to her, snatches the phone in the most polite way possible and says, "Are they ready to treat me like one of their friends and not like a child?"

There's a pause, a murmur of words Harry can't comprehend. "Aw, baby Harry doesn't want a daddy. Baby Harry wants normal friends that aren't kinky."

"Wha— No! Louis, please, save it. How could you even take it that way . . . Ugh, what's gotten in to you? You're normally not like this." 

"Like what, Harold? Enlighten me."

"I don't know . . . cheery? Excited? Happy?" Harry sighs once again, not even realizing that he's pouting. Maybe he wants them to beg him to come back, that would feel nice . . . make him feel really wanted. They did reach out to Louis to try and get him to come back, though, and that's honestly good enough for Harry.

"Oh. Well. You should come back, they miss you, I guess. Don't know why, now that they can each sleep in an individual bed."

Harry frowned, feeling that hit him in the chest hard. "So you'd rather them sleep in their own beds instead of me returning, since . . . they get a bed to themselves?"

The other end of the phone went quiet again, before a huff sounded and a rushed, "just come back, don't get so butt hurt over that."

Louis hung up on him, but Harry left his phone on his ear, lingering it there for a moment before just sliding it into his back pocket. His grandmother watched him but didn't say anything, figured it wasn't her place to question him at the moment. "Right, well. I think I'll be . . . heading back. Would you like me to do anything for you before I go?"

"Oh, no, Harry. You can go. Be with your friends, they miss you," she smiled, patting his shoulders and turning him around, pushing him out of the greenhouse.

"Yeah," he laughed with no amusement, just a bitter laugh. "All right, I'll see you; stay safe, yeah? Love you." He kissed her cheek after giving her a hug, sighing once he had to leave.

\+ + +

Harry was nearly home now. He hadn't tried texting anyone or calling them, since that call with Louis just ended up terribly and made his mood drop. Amazing what a few words from someone you like can do to you. And then he's here, parked outside the apartment complex, taking his time in getting out and paying the cab driver. He half hoped Louis wouldn't be up there with Liam and Niall. But the other half (curse that other half of Harry that is really crushing on Louis no matter what and forgives him for his snappy personality) really wants him to be so he can admire him awkwardly.

Once he entered the building and trudged up the stairs, he couldn't help but press his ear to the door and see if he could hear anyone. (And by anyone, he meant Louis).

"I still think my dick is bigger than yours, mate, sorry."

"Ha! That's what the all say, Payno, so how about we go and measure? It's okay, Niall will be there to dry your eyes with his tortilla's."

"Hey!" Niall shouted. "Leave my tortilla's outta this!"

Harry didn't know if he wanted to enter now. An image of Liam having his penis out and about made Harry gag, but the thought of Louis'? Now that was a different story. And really, that was one of the reasons why he entered quietly, taking a look at everyone who still hadn't noticed him yet. Harry was shocked, honestly. He didn't expect to come home to beer bottles lying everywhere, nope. Not one bit.

"Hey, everyone," he quietly spoke, avoiding looking over at Louis.

"Heeeyyy, it's Harry! Everyone, Harry's here!" Niall yelled, reaching for his foot since he was sitting on the ground. "Missed you, man! Missed your foot." He sniffed it happily, then shook his head. "Smelly foot, I didn't miss you. Harry, where were you?"

Harry smiled a little. Drunk Niall is cute. "My grandmother's."

Niall gasped, his eyes wide. "My grandmother's?!" He immediately stood, swaying and determined to stay still. Harry had to steady him. "I didn't know she was . . . wow, she's alive! Louis, my grandmother's alive!"

"Congrats!" He said, raising his drink.

"Niall, no, not yours; mine. Yours is still dead."

Niall gasps, his blue eyes becoming watery. "She's dead? Louis, she's dead!"

"When's the funer—"

"Guys! She's been dead for eight years. Okay, you're very drunk. Both of you. Where's Liam?"

"Measuring his dick," Louis says, burping loudly.

"Ew, okay. Is he drunk, too?"

"Mhm, you are correct and welcome."

"Louis, why on earth would I be thankful for this?" Harry started to make his way over, both hands on his hips.

"Because he's a prick when he's sober. Say thank you, child."

"I'm not thankful for this! What did you do, bring—" And that's when Harry sees the green clumps on the coffee table. That's probably what the smell is coming from. He blinked, quite shocked; Niall and Liam aren't the ones to do things like that. Especially Liam. "What's that?" Harry quietly asked, pointing to the drug.

"That would be marijuana, kitten. You should do it, it's quite the stress-reliever," Louis says, sitting up and grabbing a blunt.

Harry watches for a moment, watches Louis roll some of the crushes up green stuff in a paper and roll it up. Harry isn't having it, not one bit. Being around drunk people and drinking himself has taken him a while to get used to and to realize that not everyone who drinks is a bad person, but that? Harry wasn't thinking much when he pushed Louis back on the couch and sat on his lap to keep him away from it. He wiggled underneath the curly boy, groaning unhappily and nearly pushing Harry off. He's just never been around anything like this. Weed was bad, right? He can't recall what it exactly does to a person. He just remembers what he learned in school about drugs, and it was that you shouldn't do them.

"Get off me."

"Louis, stop fighting me. I don't want you doing drugs."

"Who are you, my mom?" He snorts. "Get off, idiot, I can do what I want. It's only weed."

"I don't want to get evicted for having something illegal here! Louis, c'mon!" Harry shouted, looking down at Louis.

"Don't yell at me. Why are you yelling? You never yell."

Harry frowns, running a hand through Louis' hair and ignoring the way he flinched away from his touch. "I only yell when I care," he whispers, still straddling his lap comfortably now that Louis stopped struggling underneath him.

"Why would you care?" Louis' eyes were bloodshot, and Harry really did know he wouldn't remember a thing tomorrow.

"Because I'm Harry. I cry when someone steps on an innocent little flower and I'm upset when people mistreat kids and I hate seeing people cry or look sad and I don't like the idea of you being able to use stuff like this, because drugs really mess with you. They make you someone you're not and I want you to be who you are right now, no matter how snappy and rude you are. You are you and I wouldn't want you to be anyone else. Don't go changing on me unless it's for the better, bear." Harry touched his cheek, liking that it was so soft against his fingers.

Louis just stared at Harry, brows drawn in as he nodded slowly and suddenly tiredly. "M'sorry. I mean, you definitely don't know what weed is, but I'm still sorry."

Harry smiled, humming happily as he placed a small kiss on his forehead before crawling off and sitting beside him. Louis just stayed still, a frown on his face. Harry couldn't help himself from wanting to touch his feather-like hair, so he didn't. He touched Lou's hair, combed his fingers through it and scratched lightly at his scalp, which made Louis fall asleep faster than Harry had ever seen anyone do.


	13. ✿10✿

Harry had fallen asleep beside Louis, not even realizing Louis had sprawled himself out across Harry like a tired cat and was snoring in his ear. Sometimes it would be really loud puffs of air blowing against it, but then came the snore that sounded like a train. That's actually what had awoken Harry, was Louis' snoring. At first, he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering why Louis was lying on top of him and clinging to him like a koala bear, but then just went with it and started playing with his hair. Louis weighed absolutely nothing and it's adorable because even though he puts on this big and bad persona, and looks all rugged, he's just a cutie. An absolute cutie. And he looked so peaceful when he was sleeping (even though his open mouth got a bit of slobber on Harry's shirt, he didn't mind) with no worry lines on his forehead, no crease between his brows . . . He liked him looking so peaceful. But Harry wasn't expecting Louis to jump up out of surprise when he had started tracing his tattoos. Although he's disappointed, he sits up and watches Louis carefully, not liking the way he's retreating out of disgust.

"What the fuck, Harry?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, not knowing what happened.

"Jesus, why were you touching me? Why was I on top of you?" Louis looked around, trying to piece what had happened, Harry assumed.

"Oh, I was just . . . you're soft and I-I'm sorry. You just . . . you'd fallen asleep on me, I guess." Harry sighed, now freaking out himself. "I didn't know . . . I thought—"

"Hey, whoa. Harry, is everything okay?" Liam asked, suddenly appearing into the living room from his bedroom.

Harry nodded frantically, too quickly to pass that he actually was okay. He didn't want Louis thinking he did anything inappropriate while he was intoxicated. He would never, not ever; and just him assuming something like that about him makes him feel horrible and disgusting and he can't handle it. Just the thought of that happening makes him want to cry, because he really would never.

"Oh, God, I think he's having a panic attack."

Louis' eyes widened, the words: "What the hell did I do?!" Furiously falling past his lips that made Harry flinch and start crying, gasping for air.

And air is what he needs; he can't breathe. Not anymore. It's like every time he inhales and expects to get air, his air supply only shortens and his chest starts to hurt and he's freaking out and can't breathe at all.

"Shoot, his asthma. Niall! Where's his inhaler?!"

"What?" Niall asks, running into the room with his shirt off, looking as if he just stumbled out of bed.

"Where is Harry's inhaler!"

"Oh, crap, man. He . . ."

"He what?"

"He lost it! Remember?"

"No, no, no," Liam said, now beginning to pace with his hands in his hair while Harry feels like he's dying.

"It's not asthma." Louis, eyes still on Harry, sneaks over to him, carefully grasping his arm, and when he didn't pull away, he tugs him over and presses his chest to Harry's backside, wrapping his arms around his chest. "Hey, bud," he quietly whispered to the quiet and gasping Harry, who is now starting to feel dizzy. "Hey, hey. Listen to me, okay?" He inhales and exhales deeply. "Feel that? I'm sure you can copy me, kitten, c'mon." He repeats it again, hoping it would work. "Everything is fine. Just breathe, yeah? You can do it, I know you can. You're very strong . . . can you be strong for me? Breathe, Harry, breathe with me."

It takes a while for Harry to catch on, to stop crying and gasping and to even out his breaths; but eventually, he calms down (he curls up into Louis and frowns and holds onto his shirt tightly, wishing he could hide from everyone) and everyone feels relief and shock all combined with how that went.

Once a few minutes pass with Louis just rubbing his hand up and down his back, Harry starts to sit up and wipe at his face and nose, not looking over at Lou. "M'sorry for gettin' a bit of snot on your shirt."

"Never liked this shirt anyway."

Harry smiles, giving him a small glance, and then sighs loudly, eyeing Liam and Niall with pursed lips. "Sorry about that, guys. Kinda lost it there."

"Harry, don't apologize. Are you okay? Do you feel well?" Liam asks.

Harry nods and rubs his palms together. "Yeah, yeah. Good. I'm good."

"Okay, I'll go get you some water," Niall quietly says, heading into the kitchen.

Harry and Louis look at each other quietly, each just inspecting one another, and when Liam mumbled something about helping Niall (why would he need help getting water?), he leaves, making them now alone.

"You're good, yeah?" Louis asks, raising his eyebrows, leaning closer to Harry.

"Thank you . . . for what you did. Um, how did you know that would help?"

Louis shrugs. "Let's just say I'm familiar with anxiety attacks. Why did you freak out?"

Harry shrugged and looked away, sighing quietly and watching his thumbs as they tapped together.

"Was it something I said?"

"Well, more of what you assumed."

"And me thinking you had sex with me made you flip? I was barely awake, didn't even register we still had clothes on."

"Yeah, it did. Because it would have been rape, right? Like, you were drunk and I was sober. You were also high . . . And . . . No. Just no. I would never. Take advantage of you, that is. I'm sorry. I shouldn't've . . ."

Just then, Liam and Niall return with water in a Scooby-Doo cup, which Harry takes gratefully, sipping the ice-less water. Everyone has his eyes on him, and he really doesn't like that. It's like they're waiting for his next move, waiting to see if he'll do something that will cause them to baby him and . . . he doesn't want that. He's fine, really is. He doesn't want them staring like that. So he clears his throat and stands, cheeks pink as he starts to make his way silently towards his room, shutting the door behind him.

He frowns and rolls onto his stomach, head on his blue pillow as he stares at the white wall. His room wasn't anything special—too small to be anything, really—but what he does have are these little positive messages hanging on the walls. They're his Mom's. She had these all over the house, nearly in every room. He just thought he'd take them and hopefully they'd work in his times of despair. They haven't yet, but he takes comfort in knowing that they must have helped his Mom somehow. That's gotta be the reason why she had so many . . . But Harry knew it wasn't true, he just refuses to believe otherwise. Maybe she wanted to be around something positive since her life was just a mess.

\+ + +

Harry stayed in his room, completely drained and just deciding to sleep what happened off. He knows he's been off lately since he's normally so upbeat and positive. Now, he's just . . . bleh. Very bleh. His emotions were everywhere and he didn't know how to handle anything anymore. It's so frustrating, having so many emotions at once and not knowing what to do with them. And it gets so bad to the point where he just can't function properly without effecting the others around him. That's the thing about negative feelings and thoughts and actions . . . It's like a virus. A dreadful virus. Once one person catches it, they all do. Sometimes there are people who are immune, but that's rare.

Harry doesn't know what he's thinking at this point, comparing people's feelings to a virus. He feels a tinge of guilt, because humans aren't a virus. They're alive and some people can feel all these things at once and . . . power through them. Harry's seen it, seen people power through very bad things, so he's hoping he can too.

Then there's a knock at the door so Harry's quick to sit up and run a hand through his hair, trying to fix the thing that resembles a bird nest on top of his head.

"Hey, bud," Louis says, cracking the door open before swinging it open completely. "Feeling well?"

Harry glances over at the clock with his brows drawn in, only now noticing it's seven in the evening. "Uh, yeah. Good, thanks. You're still here?" He asks, yawning and stretching.

Louis' tongue darted out to the piercing at the corner of his lip, toying with it absentmindedly. "Yeah, yeah. Had nothing better to do. Niall and Liam left to go grocery shopping. I got a bit hungry and tried to cook something, but then I realized why they went grocery shopping so I gave up. Are you hungry? We could go grab something, I'll pay and stuff."

Something is off with him. Is he always that nice and nervous? "You don't have to. You can go home, if you want."

"Oh, yeah. Home. I should have—Yeah, um . . . Are you sure you don't want to get something to eat?"

Harry furrows his eyebrows, but doesn't question him about his behavior. Just slightly nods and stands up, stretching again and scratching his nose tiredly.

"Pizza?" Harry makes a face. They had that the other night. And the night before . . ."Buffalo wings, then?"

Harry shrugs, beginning to search for his shoes. "Sure, that sounds good." He slips on his boots, which makes him even taller than Louis.

Louis stands on his tip-toes quickly with a frown."All right. On we go."

And they go. They head out the door without saying anything, get into the car without saying anything (Louis apparently has a car and it is black and has a broken taillight and there's Chinese takeout on the dashboard that Louis tosses in the back when they get in), even when they reach Buffalo Wild Wings they're quiet. Harry doesn't like it quiet. They're seated in a booth, the lighting very dim. There's a lot of TVs here. Big ones. All showing a type of sport on each one of them. Only one is showing the local news. From what Harry can see from it, a family-owned store got robbed and they can't find the robber.

"Is this good?" Harry looks at Louis, who is staring at him, eyes looking at Harry's emerald ones, waiting for his answer. "This restaurant," Louis clarifies. "Is this all right for you?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. This is good. I've never been here before." The menu's are long and black and there's a huge sauce bottle on one page, it layered with the sauces and its names. There's a lot of sauces—Harry didn't know there were so many.

"Really? It's very good—I eat here when I can. Get the onion rings."

Harry nods and orders an iced tea when the waiter comes by. His shirt his a simple tight and black t-shirt. His head is shaved, too, and he kind of looks like he belongs in the army. Louis gets a mango tea. "What's that taste like?" Harry curiously asks. He feels awkward; it's like they're on a date.

"Have you had mango's before?" Harry nods. "And you've had tea, right?" He nods again. "Put them together and voila."

"Cool."

"Mhm."

And silence again. Harry fidgets with the red and leather seat he's sitting on; it's wrinkled and peeling off in a spot near his leg and he just starts picking at it absentmindedly. His head lifts to look at Louis in front of him, his eyes wandering to a TV so that makes it easier for Harry to stare at his face. The dim light makes it harder for him to see the bright blue of his eyes, and it makes his hair even look darker than what it is. His cheekbones look much more prominent and the green-eyed boy doesn't care enough to wonder why. And then Louis turns his attention to Harry, catches his staring eyes with his and his stomach flutters. He forgot how much a simple look could make him feel when it comes to Louis.

"How's the business going?"

"Mm," Harry hums, about to answer him before the drinks were placed. He sips it quickly before the straw was even put down. The waiter asks what they want, seeming bored and uninterested, and crap, he doesn't know what he wants. There's too much to choose from. "Um . . . I—"

"We'll just have two medium-sized wings with buffalo sauce. And onion rings," Louis says, giving both his and Harry's menus to the waiter. "Now, what were you saying?"

"Oh, right. Flowers. The stand. Flower stand. That." Louis nods. "Good. It's all good, yeah. Good."

"I'm just assuming it's all going very good."

"It is."

"Cool."

".... Mhm." Another silence. Harry sips his drink and Louis sighs deeply, rubbing his palms against his thighs as he goes back to looking around. Then he noticed a very sudden and dramatic change on Lou's face, watching confusedly as it twists in anger. The first thing he assumes is that he's done something very wrong and this nice Louis is gone. Possibly gone forever. Every single trace of kindness has fled from him, and Harry could tell his hands were in fists. He looked around, trying to find out what he was so mad over (probably one of the football games?), but soon frowned when he noticed a muscular man approaching the table with a smirk. His hair is short and black and flat on his head. He pulls it off.

"Louis," he says, voice not as deep as Harry thought it would be. He sounded Irish.

"Matt," Louis responds through his teeth, glaring angrily. If looks could kill, Matt'd be long dead by now.

"Been awhile, hasn't it? Too long, man. What's been happening?" He puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it.

"Wish it would've been longer," Louis mumbles, shrugging off his hand. "It's been good for me—grand, actually. Shall I introduce you to my boyfriend Harry?"

Now the man acknowledges Harry. And he didn't seem so friendly anymore.

Harry didn't know what to do, his words stuck in his throat as he looked between Matt and Louis. Louis had pleading eyes, and Harry swallowed. "Hi, Matt. It's nice to meet you." Shall I introduce you to my boyfriend Harry?

"Mm, I bet. You two are dating?"

Harry nods quickly, awkwardly. Louis reaches over to grab his hand and lovingly kissing the back of it that has Harry melting. "Have been for what . . ."

"Five months, silly. You always forget," Harry pouts, staring at Louis, feeling really (really really really really really really) happy.

"Five...?"

"Mhm, isn't he adorable?" Harry flushes, blinking quickly. Louis winks.

"A complete stud, yes. Uh, I have to get going now. My friends are probably waiting for me." He took another look at Harry, stared long and hard, before glancing to Louis. "Bye."

"Tootle-loo!" Harry says, waving twice, hand still in Louis'.

Right when Matt was out of sight, Louis spoke. "Jesus, Harry, I owe you one. Thank you so much for that. God," Louis groans, using his other hand to rub his face with.

Really, Harry's heart was just racing because of Louis' actions and words. Boyfriend. He knows he isn't Louis' boyfriend, but it made him feel some type of way when he said that. And the kiss on the hand. Harry couldn't believe how cute and soft his lips were on his own skin, and he just wanted to go back in time and experience it again. Suddenly, Harry squeezes the one he's holding and shakes his head. "Hey, no. You're fine! It's okay, that was kinda fun."

Louis laughs and stares at him, his thumb rubbing over Harry's knuckle with a smile—then his eyes dart to their hands and it goes away, along with his hand. "Probably wondering who that was."

Harry sets both his hands in his lap. "Yeah, I am. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Louis nods and starts toying with his lip piercing yet again. Harry likes that piercing. "Thanks. Again," he says with a forced chuckle.

Maybe one day they could be good enough friends for Louis to open up to him. Harry has realized that there's more to Louis than what meets the eye. He's beginning to believe that he hides behind this mean and negative persona and the real Louis is in there somewhere. Harry thinks he's barely even scratched the surface with Louis.


	14. ❁11❁

Louis didn't come in to work the next day. Harry didn't think much about it (okay, maybe he did . . . just a tad) and just tried to continue with his job. Maybe Louis was sick.

As the day went on, Harry had thought and thought all day about where Louis could be. And instead of going inside and asking, he just assumed he was sick. And he believes it, actually. So as the day was coming to an end, he had worked up a bouquet of flowers with white, pink and red carnations. Carnations mean get well soon so Harry just chose the prettiest and healthiest ones he had, to give to Louis. Now just ten more minutes until he can officially close up and then be on his way to Louis'.

The rest of the time seemed to both go by slow and fast at the same time. Harry may have closed up a few minutes before he was supposed to, but he didn't really care. All he could think was LouisLouisLouis—the way his eyes just always showed such a bright, pretty blue that made it seem like there's just a touch of innocence there. He didn't know why he thought that, but Louis is just a private person and when Harry looks at his eyes he feels like he could read anything he's feeling, even when he's being cold towards him. 

Harry just walked to Louis' house, deciding against taking a cab, and then sending a quick text to Liam that said he would be home just a few minutes later than planned. As Harry reached Lou's apartment, he looked for the apartment number and then pressed the little button. 

"Who is it?"

Harry made a face, suddenly, because Louis didn't sound happy at all. He sounded snappy and Harry had the urge to just turn around and make a run for it. "Um, it's—it's Harry," he stuttered out, looking down at the flowers with a tight grip. But then there was a buzz after a long silence; Harry's brows furrowed because he honestly believed Louis would've sent him away. So he walked over to the front door happily and swung it open, his feet carrying him over to the staircase (because taking the stairs is better for your health, obviously) and walked up the two stories it took to reach Louis' floor. And then he's nervous again, hands becoming clammy. He made sure to take his time walking to the door, only three doors down from the staircase. 

"Oh, gosh," Harry muttered with a lick of his lips, becoming much more nervous than he should. But he knocked anyway, three times, precisely. 

He held his breath when he heard footsteps getting closer to the door. And then there he is, in a black tank-top and a pair of gray sweatpants clinging onto his hips. Their eyes met soon, and Harry read confusion in those beautiful eyes of his. He then realized that Lou's eyes were glued to the flowers.

"I brought you some . . ." His voice trailed off when Louis turned and headed back into his apartment without another word. Harry's brows furrowed, but he followed him inside and shut the door quietly. "Are you okay? You didn't come into work so I assumed you were sick."

"Eh," Louis shrugged, pouring a alcohol into his mug of coffee. Vodka, it looked like. Harry's lips turned downward in disgust because surely, that's not good. "Wanted to take a day off for myself."

"Oh," Harry said with a nod, taking steps closer to the bar and placing the flowers down on top of it gently. 

"Did you bring me flowers, H?" 

Harry sat down on the bar stool and looked at Louis on the other side of the counter, trying to keep a straight face as he shrugged, but he broke out in a smile and quickly nodded. "I did! Thought you were sick so I brought you some, like, 'get well' flowers." 

Louis' forearms pressed onto the counter, making the distance between them shrink. A look washed over his features, suddenly. He did look sour and grumpy with his hair all stuck up in random places, but now they're much softer and less harsh. "And these say that, right?" His thin lips raised at the corners.

Harry's stomach fluttered at his smile. "Ye-yeah. Carnations are supposed to mean that. Like, people go to them for when their friends get sick because they're so pretty and bright and can really lighten a mood. 'Cause when people get sick it's kinda sad, 'specially me. I love going out and taking walks and doing my job and sometimes I wished someone would bring me carnations when I'm sick. I actually get sick quite frequently because my allergies are the worst. God, it's awful. I'm allergic to hamsters, isn't that strange? And cinnamon. I'm allergic to cinnamon and it makes my tongue and face swell up to where I can't breathe."

"Is that right?" He asked with a shake of his head, the smile growing on his face. Harry'd realized he rambled and immediately flushed, nodding. "Interesting. Now, where do you think I should put these?"

"In water," Harry instantly responded.

Louis snorted. "No, where. In the house."

"Oh, yeah," Harry muttered to himself, glancing down towards his hands. "Maybe beside a window?"

"Then my room," he heard Louis say.

Harry's head raised to look at him, but then he furrowed his brows when he didn't see him. Leaning over the counter to see Louis, he smiled, finding him hunched down below the sink with the cabinets open, so domestic and cute as he rummaged for a vase. A look came over his face then, one of confusion and frustration as he sat up and backed up against the edge of the sink. "What's wrong?" Harry asked, letting his chin rest in the palm of his hand.

"Haven't got a vase."

"Oh," he quietly said. Then, he sat up straighter and grinned. "Do you have a, like, big cup? Maybe a mason jar? That will work, then I'll just bring you one of my vases." 

Louis bit on his lower lip and narrowed his eyes a little, looking as if he was thinking, before he just turned and walked over to a cabinet. Harry tilted his head, unable to see what he grabbed when he did, but once he turned and made his way over to Harry, he just grinned and reached for the mason jar happily. "Is that good?" Louis questioned, spreading both palms over the counter between them.

Harry nods. "Yes, this is great! Where did you get one from?" He asks, standing with the jar in his hand to move over to the sink. (When Louis muttered that his Nan used to make jelly, Harry just giggled because it was too cute.) Filling it up with water about halfway, he then goes over to where the flowers are and takes them out of their—what Harry calls them—flower wrapping paper, and then just delicately places the flowers inside the jar. He arranges them a little, wanting them to look perfect, before he's picking them up and turning to Louis, who's staring at him with an expression Harry can't read. "Your room, you said?"

Louis nods once and flicks his head in the direction his room his in, motioning for Harry to follow him. He does, and he really feels happy. Because the flowers are gonna be in his room. Louis' room. Where he sleeps and spends his alone time. He's gonna see these when he goes to sleep and when he wakes up. Harry felt too happy. 

When they reach his room, Louis just starts kicking shoes and pants out of the way as he leads Harry in further, pointing over to the window beside his bed. His room hadn't changed from the last time Harry was in it, and if anything, it was only messier. He ignored the mess and set the flowers down on the window, reaching out to twist open the blinds so that sunlight could come in more. He grinned, eyed the flowers once more, before turning to Louis again. His hands were in his sweatpants and he was still staring at Harry. He blushed, Louis' lip twitched in the smallest smile he'd ever seen, and then they were walking out. 

"I should really clean up in there," he said after shutting the door behind them.

Harry only hummed, deciding not to comment on the messy room since he didn't want to offend him. Both of them moved over to the couch, and just as Harry sat on it, his cheeks heated up even more. He remembered the last time he was sitting here; he'd tugged his shirt over his head and Louis had called him kitten and Harry had called him bear. With his hands laced together, he peeked over at Louis (who was staring at him yet again), and then felt his face suddenly feel too hot. Louis' just smirking, and it's slight—but it's there, and Harry just knows he's thinking about it too.

"So—" Harry's voice cracked and he coughed. "Um, so . . . I'll bring the vase tomorrow, then? When you're working?" He said, voice high pitched in a questioning tone. He's itching to ask why he took a day for himself and why he had mixed vodka into his coffee. 

Louis sat back and put his arm on top of the back of the couch. "Yeah, you can do that."

"Why did you take off from work?" He suddenly blurted, eyes widening immediately after he said that. 

Louis shifted uncomfortably and leaned up, elbows resting on his thighs as he tilted his head to look at Harry. His brow was raised. "Who's grave were you at that one day?" 

Harry's mouth instantly went dry, suddenly defensive. "I asked first."

"So?" Louis replied, sighing loudly. "If you want to know why, then you have to tell me who that was. It's how this works; you don't get information unless I get information in return, Haz."

Harry's stomach fluttered and it's still a feeling he don't think he'll get used to when he's around Louis. "That shouldn't be how things work . . ." He muttered, looking down at his hands. 

"I'm not telling you unless you comply. I know how to get my way, I always do," he confidently said, cockiness etched into his tone. 

Harry scoffed, still wanting to be defensive. He doesn't know if he wants Louis to know about his mom. It doesn't seem right. He thinks that if he tells Louis a sad time in his life, then he deserves to be told about a sad time in Louis' life. Isn't that fair? He wants to think it's fair. "I don't . . ."

"Harrry," he said, voice drawling out his name. Harry shifts in his seat and avoids looking at him. "Haz," Louis says, as if knowing that the way he says his name and nickname has that affect on him--the feeling of importance. (Because Harry just melts when Louis talks to him and uses his name like that, slow and so serious.) "Kitten."

Harry makes a noise then. It came out as a whimper, but he didn't mean for it to. It just did and Louis is still staring at him with such an intent look that he couldn't help it. Kitten. "Y-you have to . . . First. Me . . . second?" Harry gulps.

Louis laughs, but it's a laugh that just sounds like he knew he'd get his way. A cocky laugh. Jesus, do those even exist? "All right, I'll go first." Harry sits back against the couch and watches him. Louis moves around uncomfortably and looks at the TV on the other side of the room. "Right, well. It sort of has to deal with what happened last night with Matt, that one guy. Seeing him made me quite upset and it's an awfully long story. That's why I missed work; because memories came back and I couldn't deal with it."

Harry's brows furrow and he frowns, hesitantly reaching out to tug on his elbow. Once his elbow falls from his thigh, he's quick to grab his hand and hold it. It's soft. Clammy and soft and everything a hand should feel like. "I'm sorry, Lou," Harry says, still frowning as he gives Louis' hand a squeeze. Louis looks at him and shrugs, about to say something but Harry beats him. "You should know that I'm here for you, and that you can always call me if you need someone to talk to. Stupid Matt. We can start a Matt hate club where we talk about what we hate about Matt. I don't like his hair, it's too short and it made his forehead look bigger than Russia."

Louis laughed and adjusted his hand so that their fingers intertwined. Harry fluttered his eyelashes quickly, not able to process that Louis wanted to hold his hand in a way that held it even more intimately. "I appreciate that, love, thank you. But I'm okay now. Your turn."

Once he said those last two words, Louis squeezes his hand and rubs his thumb over the knuckle of his index finger, which calmed Harry, but also made his insides feel all warm. He felt like he could tell him now. "Um, I—" He paused.

"Look at me."

Harry did. And he stared at his blueblueblue eyes and gulped, finding the way they held that innocence, yet comforting look within them...well, comforting. Strange; a man that has a body of tattoos and piercings having the eyes that a little boy would. Louis always looked so rough and tough, spoke like that too, but his wall is down. Harry sees that now. He released a tiny bit of information about someone that hurt him, and this Louis, this soft guy caressing his hand, looks to be the one he's always hid. The one Harry sees when he looks into his eyes. "When I was fifteen, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. Breast cancer. She went through the treatment, did everything she needed to do. And—and after surgery, she didn't tell me that there wouldn't be a chance of her surviving still. The doctors said that if she went through surgery, there was a possibility she could live. But she—she didn't. She left me when I was sixteen, and I go visit her every week with fresh flowers," Harry rushed out, crying. He didn't realize he was crying until now. He hadn't talked about his mother in so long, didn't like to because it just reminded him that she is still gone. He felt Louis tug his hand, and before he knew it, his head was resting on Louis' chest. 

"Oh, Harry," Louis whispered, his hand raising to Harry's hair to brush through it gently. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

He let Louis rub his fingers into his scalp and soothe him until he stopped crying. "It's okay, it was a long time ago," Harry murmured against his shirt, eyes closing as he just kept breathing Louis in. 

It really was a long time ago, but it still hurts. The pain has just died down a little, to where it's bearable, but the pain is still there. In his heart. And it's like every time he talks about her, he opens a wound. The way she went always has him emotional, and although he gave Louis a brief version of the story, it has him just sobbing. He loved his mother. Loved his mother so much; she had been through a lot, more than cancer. She was a comforting woman, always gave the best words of advice and held Harry when he needed a hug. The pain he has in his chest because of the tragic loss will always be there, even when he convinces others that it's not.

\+ + +

As they both walked toward the door quietly, Harry slowly crossed his arms and pursed his lips as he walked through the door Louis held open for him. 

"Thanks for the flowers, Harry; they're quite pretty and I'll try my best to take care of them."

Harry smiled widely, feeling like a free bird. They had talked to each other and Louis let Harry hold on to him for as long as he needed, and then they talked about work and TV shows until Harry started yawning and then said he needed to get home otherwise Liam and Niall would flip again. It was when he said that that they decided to check their phones, and they both laughed at the messages Liam and Niall sent in the group chat they were in. Niall had told Harry to bring home some stain remover, and so he knew then he should be getting home. "No problem, Louis. It was nice talking to you." Quickly, Harry reached out to grab Louis, who looked quite surprised, before he pulled him into a hug. "Are you ever going to tell me why you were at the graveyard that day?" He whispered, keeping the hug tight and close.

He could sense Louis' smile. "That story's saved for another day."


	15. ✿12✿

Harry woke up to his alarm clock going off. He had huffed and rolled further into his pillow, not wanting to get up just yet. He doesn't really have to get up early for his job, but Liam has to get up early for school and Harry likes to make breakfast. And Niall has work this morning, too. Honestly, just an excuse to take care of someone. He likes taking care of people and likes feeling needed like that. So after about five minutes of procrastination, he rolls out of bed and makes his way towards the kitchen. The first thing he does is start in on the coffee, beginning to rub the sleep away from his eyes when it starts brewing. Harry's always been more of a tea kind of guy, but no one can go wrong with a pot of coffee. As it's brewing, he moves over to the fridge to look over what they had in it. It seemed like it was just recently stocked full of food, which makes him glad that he doesn't have to be on them to go grocery shopping. It was their thing—Harry would cook the food, and Liam and Niall would get the food. He's figured out what to cook a couple minutes after staring, and decides to cook a pretty basic meal: eggs, bacon, and toast. Liam likes butter on his toast, and Niall likes jelly, so he makes sure to put those on how they like it. 

Soon, he has whipped up the food and now has them on plates. Harry puts them down on the table and pours the coffee into mugs, puts in how much sweetener they like, and then patiently waits for them to walk in. Normally the smell of food would do that, so he just sits quietly in his chair with a banana in his hand, taking tiny bites of it.

Harry grins when Liam walks in first with a yawn, immediately taking a seat where the buttered toast was. "Good morning, sleepy head!" Harry happily says, leaning over the table to tap at Liam's head.

Liam bites into his toast and looks over at Harry, eyes drooping tiredly before he lazily flashes a smile. "Hi."

Niall walks in next, takes a seat, and nearly lets his head fall into his plate of food. "Sleepy. Toast pillow. Yum."

Harry pulls Niall's plate out of the way when he nearly bangs his head into the toast, and shoves the coffee closer to him instead. "Have a sip of that, Niall." Niall does so grumpily, muttering something about how Harry had taken away his toast pillow. "How did you both sleep?" Harry gives Niall his plate back after he'd sipped from the coffee.

"Liam snores like a hippo," Niall groaned out with a shake of his head.

Liam paused his eating to look over at Niall, a look on his face that just suited the word, "done" before he looks to Harry, and then Niall again. "How would you know if a hippo snores loudly?" He questioned, eyes slightly narrowed because he was trying to be right. (Liam's good at correcting people and being right.)

"Dunno, they just look like they do," Niall simply replies, shrugging.

Liam shakes his head and scoffs, going back to eating while murmuring things Harry can't understand with food in his mouth. With a quick glance, Harry looks over to the clock and tells them that they should hurry up if they wanted to be on time for school and work. They groaned a lot, but Liam was the first to finally leave the table to get ready to leave. Niall lingered and finished off what Liam didn't before he himself made his way back into the room to get ready. Harry cleared off the table, put the dishes in the dishwasher, grabbed the chalk lying beside the chalkboard in the shape of bouquets, and then quickly jotted down what he was going to make for supper; poppy seed chicken and mashed potatoes. After writing that, he finds himself going over to his room to put on his attire for the day. Harry settled on being comfortable and just wearing black jeans and a short-sleeved breezy button-up with a starry type of pattern to it. He felt good and thought he looked good, so that resulted in him being very happy. Exiting his room and heading straight to Liam and Niall's room, he rapped against the door with his knuckles. "Time to go!"

The door swung open and revealed Liam with a backpack slung over his shoulder; following was Niall with his work clothes on. He's an on and off waiter at Berrie's ("Where your heart belongs but your wife doesn't") bar and restaurant. He says he's an aspiring bar tender and waiting for the day he'll make a drink that will blow everyone's mind and make millions off of it (even though they only allow him to bar tend for ten minutes after seven-thirty. He normally waits tables). Harry turns and starts to walk them both to the door. He opens it, places a and behind his back and grins at them both. "Hope you two have a great day!" He happily says, waiting for them to lean closer so he can kiss them both on the cheek. Once he does and they both head out, Harry shuts the door and makes his way to the bathroom to finish getting ready. His phone buzzes in his back pocket so he retrieves it with a light hum. 

Liam!!: the old lady is after niall again. 

Attached to the message is a picture of Niall hurrying down the hall, and the Old Lady trying to go after him. She is a woman that lives in the building, and is apparently all about Niall. She likes to give him chocolate and try to kiss him, and since none of them know her name, they stick to calling her Old Lady. 

Harry: Run Niall run!!!!

Harry giggles and sets his phone down on the counter so he'll be able to see who else would send messages in the group chat.

Niall :-D: SHE GOT ME O THE FREAKNI CHEEK IM MOVIN OUT

Bear ♥: I didnt know niall boy liked the older ladies

Niall :-D: ew louis i dont u weirdo , shes my stalker !

Bear ♥: I can see the love you have for her in the way you move

Niall :-D: run you mean ?! 

Bear ♥: aha !! I'll have to meet her neil ! seems lovely 

Harry stuck his toothbrush in his mouth and began brushing his teeth, laughing as he held his phone up and read over the messages. He found it odd he's attracted to the way Louis types, too. 

Harry: She makes great fudge!

Liam!!: Harry....

Bear ♥: bet my fudge is better than hers 

Harry: You can make fudge? Aw I'll have to try it Louis!! 

Bear ♥: soon (; 

Harry spat in the sink and rinsed his mouth out, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the winky-face Louis sent. He liked the wink. 

Niall :-D: how did u guys turn this sexual 

Harry made a face, about to tell Niall that it didn't, but then he read over the recent messages and flushed. Oh. 

Soon.

\+ + +

Harry arrived at work around ten-thirty and nearly knocked into a large bald man on his way to his flower stand. The man was exiting the tattoo shop and was looking grumpy when he almost ran into Harry, so all he did was mutter an apology and kept moving, too afraid to stick around to see what the man would do. He moves over to where the owner of the tattoo shop said he'd conceal Harry's flower stand and tugs it out behind the wall, putting it out on the corner of the shop and unlocking each glass case that holds the flowers. There's a ding that signals a coming-or-going figure from the tattoo shop, but Harry's too focused on setting his flowers out and arranging them around to even get curious about who it is. 

"Oh, no," Harry mumbled out when he accidentally tugged out a flower from a vase. Bending down to pick it up, he soon paused when the smell of cigarette smoke filled his nostrils. In his bent position, fingers barely grazing the stem of the flower, Harry couldn't help but turn his head, having a feeling he knew who was blowing the smoke in his direction. And he's right. It's Louis, who's looking rather amused as he stares back at Harry. He clears his throat, grabs the flower, stands up quickly, and then places the flower back in the vase. "Hello, Louis," he quietly says with heated cheeks, absentmindedly messing with a leaf from a rose.

"Hi there, Harry," Louis says, staying in his place. 

Harry thinks back to those messages and feels his face flush even more. Something in his stomach twists around and it has him gulping. 

"You all right there?" 

Harry grips the edge of the stand when he feels Louis inch closer. "Ges." He closes his eyes.

Louis chuckles and moves closer to Harry. "Ges?"

"I meant—" Harry finally turns his head and sees how close Louis is to him and widens his eyes. He's got his cigarette tucked between his fingers and a hand on one of Harry's flowers. "I meant great and yes and it came out ges," he finishes, looking away from him when he sees a smirk appear on Louis' lips.

"Hm," mutters Louis. "Cute." 

Harry's fingers tremble when he pulls out a few flowers, and Louis notices it as he stomps on his cigarette to put it out.

"Are you sure you're all right, Harry? You seem a bit . . . off."

He blinks, anxiety rising, heart pounding in Harry's chest as he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind. "Fudge." He didn't know what to do after that, so he just stared at Louis in pure embarrassment, not knowing how he was going to react. Harry's just a mess around Louis today; he thought that he could actually be normal around him since they're getting along with each other and becoming friends, but then he goes back to his awkward self when Louis makes a sexual innuendo and then can't even speak coherently. 

Louis looks confused at the random mention of fudge, but the longer he stares at Harry, it seems to finally hit him. His brows raise, amusement glinting in his blue eyes. He looks like he's holding back a laugh, before his features change completely. He looks worried. "Oh, I'm sorry. I make sexual remarks jokingly; if that made you uncomfortable then I'll try to stop that."

Harry frowns. That's not what he expected Louis to take this as. "I—no. You can . . . do what you want. Whatever. I'm fine, really. It's okay. Joking? Yeah, ha, it was funny. I laughed. I love sexual jokes. Really do. Penis. Funny. Dick sucking. Hilarious," Harry rambles, laughing a little too loudly and then stopping when he released a snort. 

Louis leaned over, ducking into Harry's vision with a brow raised. "Dick sucking is hilarious, huh?" 

Harry didn't want to panic, no. Not at all. But they're both just casually talking about blow-jobs and he doesn't mean to fantasize with Louis standing right there, but he does, and he's ashamed and embarrassed at the same time, and he knows that when his face heats up even more (because he was thinking of sucking Louis off) it's clear what he's thinking about. Louis has this knowing look on his face when Harry stays silent, and then reaches over to pat at the back of his hand. (Harry thinks he wants to go cry now, because his imagination has taken off without his permission and he can't stop seeing it in his head, and in moments like this, Harry hopes that Louis isn't some supernatural being that can read minds. Although it would make sense because Louis still has that goddamn look on his face while he pats Harry's hand. This touch does something else to him and it didn't just stay in the pit of his stomach. It was like the butterflies got tired of flapping around in his stomach and they found a way to go straight to his crotch.)

"Well," Louis says after Harry didn't reply. "We can discuss this hilariousness tonight when you bring me my vase." Louis starts to back away from him now, walking backwards slowly. "Over milkshakes, at Linda's Diner. 7 o'clock; be there." He stops walking at the door, eyes never leaving Harry's face.

Harry soon realizes that he's waiting for confirmation that Harry will be there, so he nods quickly, flashing a nervous smile, and then quickly pulls out his phone when Louis walks inside. 

Harry: Guys I think Louis just asked me out

He sent his message and looked around, impatiently waiting for either Niall or Liam to reply.

Niall :-D: whatd he say ????

Bear ♥: yes give us details haz

Harry widened his eyes and put his phone down, wondering how on earth he forgot about Louis being in their group chat. He bent over, rested his elbows on his stand, covered his face with his hands, and then let his fingers open up just a little so he could stare down at the phone that keeps going off.

Bear ♥: think Harrys embarrassed 

Liam!!: u guys suck i didnt have my phone on silent in class

Bear ♥: who wants to see what Harrys doin right now I have pics

Harry groaned when Louis sent a picture of him hunched over his flower stand with his hands over his face, and immediately stood up.

Liam!!: poor harry 

Bear ♥: a'ight back to work everyone , dont send messages because im a curious person and I'll mess up on a tattoo tryin to see what you guys said

Liam!!: ok dont mess up 

Niall :-D: wait but did u ask him out


	16. 12½

"I think you should ask him out," Zayn said as he flipped through some catalog that Louis didn't care enough about to see what it was.

"I dunno, though. Don't even know if I like him, really. Haven't been able to like anyone, not after . . ."

"Matt, yeah, I know," Zayn says with a huff, tossing his magazine down on the counter. Louis watches, and quirks a brow when he saw it was about art. "That son of a bitch is still ruining your life, and you've been broken up for how long? Seven or eight months? Mate, don't let this guy get in the way of you meeting people and being happy. I see the way you look at Harry and the way you talk about him in the text messages makes me believe you like him. You're kind to him, Louis, and I haven't seen you be kind in a while." Louis scoffed sarcastically. "No offense, though. Sorry. I just think that you're . . . scared. And maybe you're confusing that for doubting how much you like Harry...?"

Louis sighed deeply, glancing out the windows to see if Harry came in to work yet. Louis always clocks Harry in at 9 a.m., but today he's thirty minutes late. "So you think my being scared of pursuing another relationship is getting mixed up with how I feel about someone? Possibly, that could be it. But, like, we're becoming friends. I don't know if I want just a friendship or something more. God, Zayn, you should meet this kid. I'm scared of bruising him when I just graze his hand; he's such a tall and lanky little bastard, and I'm still scared that me, someone 5'9—" Zayn snorts. "—will hurt him."

"I've met him. Briefly. He seemed a bit toned, though. I could see he has some muscle in his arms, Jesus. For someone that just sells flowers, he's got some arms. I wouldn't think of him as fragile physically, Lou. It's clear he's not."

Louis pushes the feeling of being a bit territorial away when Zayn mentions his muscular arms. You weren't there to feel those muscular arms when they clung to me last night. Ha. Then Louis thinks about why Harry had clung to him and frowns. "Emotionally he's fragile, I believe. He's like a pretty China doll--drop it once on accident and then you're sad and spending all your time on trying to glue pieces back together that you didn't mean to break; and you can't find what goes where, so you're left with a doll that has mix-matched pieces and holes." Zayn looks confused; Louis huffs. "I'm trying to say that I'm a mess. I could hurt him without even knowing, break him, and then I'll spend my time trying to put him back together, but it wouldn't be the same. I just can't break him if I'm unable to put him back together."

Zayn looks thoughtful, a surprised look on his face. Louis feels vulnerable and surprised, too. Normally it takes a lot for him to say how he feels, even to one of his best friends, so for him to just open up and say something like that at work means a lot. And he stared at Zayn, waiting for what he's going to say, because it's going to mean something to Louis. He's put so much into letting out how he feels, so he needs Zayn to say something important. Also, he didn't really know how much he thought about Harry until now. How much he's starting to care for him.

"When we went to that party together, you and me, do you remember what you said?" Louis shook his head. "Now, call me crazy, but I just believe people speak the truth when they're downright pissed, so when you were outside on the ground, crying about a ferret, you mentioned that you were scared of being alone. Living life without a significant other by your side. So Louis, can't break the doll if you haven't even picked it up yet. Ask him out."

Louis releases a soft sigh, fingers drumming against the front desk. His eyes follow a man leaving one of the back rooms, looking quite unpleasant as he exits the building. And then he spots Harry. Cute Harry with his long hair, a ridiculous shirt on, and then he's nearly knocking into the large man. Louis unintentionally tenses when the bald man stops to glare at Harry. His eyes are wide and his pale skin make his eyes stand out, even from where Louis' standing, before they're both walking away from each other. He exhales, but can't stop the smile from forming. Zayn rolls his eyes when Louis looks at him. "What?" He asks innocently, starting to release a laugh. "Don't look at me like that, man. I'm gonna go smoke, and you're going to stay here and mind your damn business," he says, quite cheerfully, practically forgetting what him and Zayn were talking about previously.

Now walking towards the door, he tugs his pack of cigarettes out and a lighter, lighting up almost as soon as he stepped out the door. And there Harry was, bent over, and Louis almost choked.

\+ + +

Louis has a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he does not like. It feels like his heavy heart has sunken into his stomach and is camping there for a while. He's not spying, no, won't ever admit that. Just curiously looking. Outside. At Harry. Who looks very happy to see someone. It's a girl, and that has Louis' stomach twisting even more. 

"So we're spying now?" 

Louis jumps but doesn't turn his head. Madeline was never good at being quiet. He decides to ignore her and grip at the plant he's hiding behind even harder. The blonde girl is touchy. Harry doesn't seem to be minding, either. Louis' been watching the two for about fifteen minutes, and what he's assumed so far is that they are either friends or screwing and Louis really believes that they're screwing. 

"Is that Harry?" Madeline is quick to realize that she needs to be quiet and hides with Louis. "Ooh, with a girl." She pauses before gasping. "You don't think they're...?"

"I do," Louis mutters out.

"But he's—"

"Apparently not too gay, it seems."

"Oh, Jesus, Louis. If he was a little bit straight, he would've been all over me," says Madeline.

Louis tilts his head to look at her disapprovingly. "He's a gentleman; and not a blind one, at that, so tone down the cockiness." When she mutters something about him being jealous, he just shakes his head and steps out behind the fern. "I'm going out there."

Madeline reaches out for him; he swats her hand away. "Louis. What? No, don't do that."

"Shut up, I'm curious, so I'm going," he firmly says, tugging at the hem of his black sweater. He begins to walk to the door with a cigarette out, using that as an excuse to be outside, and before he exited, he heard Madeline say, "don't be rude." Louis didn't know if he could stop that or not. 

"Oh, I'm telling you, Harry," the blonde girl says once Louis is outside. "It was the funniest thing. Milk was everywhere!"

Harry laughed, his face so lit up and excited; Louis hoped Harry looked like that when he was around him. Lighting his cigarette, the ding of the bell going off has them both turning their heads. Louis ignores them and inhales deeply, suddenly angry, before exhaling. He can feel eyes on him, so he decides to turn his head and try to be polite. "Didn't see ya there," he grinned out, walking closer to the two. She's prettier up close and Louis didn't like that. "Hi, Harry. Lovely day, hm?"

Harry shifts on his foot, smiling a confused smile, but a smile nonetheless. "It is. Very lovely." Both of them stare at each other for a little bit, Harry's eyes looking deeply into Louis'. Louis felt like Harry was trying to read what he was doing, but he only grinned wider and put his cigarette in his mouth. Finally Harry turned to the girl beside him. "Sorry, Gem. This is Louis. Louis, this is Gemma." 

"Oh!" Louis says, turning to the girl and forcing a smile. "Didn't see you there. Hi." When she sticks her hand out to shake hands, he acts like he didn't see it and turns to Harry. "Still on for tonight, right?"

Harry's face falls immediately. The way Louis' stomach feels after seeing his face makes him want to throw up. "Shoot," Harry mutters, frowning. "I'm sorry, Louis. I really want to go, honest. It slipped my mind and she's only in town for tonight and I haven't seen her in a while . . . " Harry huffs, shaky hands slipping through his hair. Louis felt obligated to calm him down, tell him it's okay. But it wasn't. "Can we take a rain check, please? Tomorrow night, maybe? God, Lou. I feel awful. Please—"

Louis smiles with a shake of his head. "Busy tomorrow. 'Nother time, then, Styles." He glances over to Gemma as he backs away. "You two have a grand time," he loudly says as he flings his cigarette down and angrily makes his way back inside. Madeline goes after him, trying to calm him down, but he just shrugs her off and tells Zayn to give him someone to tattoo up.


	17. ❁13❁

The night would've been perfect for Harry. It was a lovely evening and a lovely restaurant. They were seated by a window so he was able to see people walking around, couples holding hands, a boy racing down the sidewalk to quickly get to a destination. Harry's eyes blurred; he blinked, stared at the window, and then caught his reflection through it. He had a dull look on his face, and his lips were turned slightly downward. The reflection disturbed him so he cleared his throat, put his hands in his lap, and turned to look at his friends. The table even looked expensive, and the longer he thought, the harder it was for him to remember the last time he'd been somewhere so fancy. A white, silk cloth laid over the table, cushion-y chairs that made butts sink into them; there was a vase in the middle of the table with fresh calla lilies. Harry wondered how they got such pretty calla lilies when it wasn't the season they grew in. The dim lighting above him made it easier to conceal the uninterested look on his face and the times he dazed off in guilt, always thinking back to the way Louis reacted when Harry said he'd have to skip out on their milkshake time. He's confused. Was it a date? Did Louis ask him out for milkshakes? Did he skip a possible date from the boy he's been obsessing over for months?

"Someone looks distant," he heard his sister say.

Guilt hit him even harder. "Sorry," he exhaled with a shake of his head. "Sorry, gosh. Have a lot in my mind, I guess." Liam reached out to pat at Harry's shoulder.

"Does it have to do with that small boy?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at Gemma, thinking over what she could mean, before Louis popped into his mind. "That sounded rude, but I suppose. I feel bad for saying I couldn't go out with him tonight," he honestly replied.

That made Niall sit up straighter and toss a breadstick back into the bowl it came in. "Louis! He asked you out, then?"

That made Harry frown. Gemma pressed her elbows onto the table and rested her chin atop her knuckles. "I think so. I'm not sure if it was a date, he just said to go meet him at a diner to drink milkshakes. I have to give him a vase for some flowers I'd given him, and he suggested we do it over milkshakes. Does that sound like a date?"

He saw Liam nod out of the corner of his eyes. "To me, it does."

Harry shrank back into his chair. Gemma sighed. "Well, soooorry I intruded on your date," she grumbled. "Thought you'd be happier to see me, considering we haven't seen one another in years."

"No!" Harry sat up. "Don't take it like that, that's not what I mean. I've just been . . . crushing on Louis for a while now, and I think I hurt him when I said I was going out with you instead of him."

"Surely it's not that big a deal, right? I mean, you explained that I'm your sister that you haven't seen in ages," Gemma said with a shrug, taking a sip of her wine. "Could've dragged him along, too. Wouldn't've minded."

Harry froze, heart beat pounding in his chest so quickly that it made him feel lightheaded. "I didn't—I didn't tell him that you were my sister. But he knows that . . . He knows that I don't go for, like, ladies. So I'm good," Harry says with a nod, trying to convince himself. But then he turns to Liam with a desperate look on his face. "I'm good, right?"

Liam grimaced, his face saying it all. "Um . . ."

"Oh, God," Harry gasped out, standing and nearly bumping his head on the overhead table lighting that dangled from the ceiling. He scooted his chair back that made a cringing squeaky noise, but he was too focused on getting out of the building so that he could call Louis. His phone was pulled out on his way out of the restaurant, accidentally knocking a waiter over during his rushed speed walk, and he didn't even stop to apologize, just kept going until he was outside in the cool April weather. Harry dialed Louis' number quickly, put his phone to his ear, and then leaned against a large, white column. "C'mon, Lou," Harry muttered when it kept ringing. He sighed, pulled the phone away, ended the call, before redialing and calling again. This time, it went straight to voicemail. Harry frowned. "Hi, Louis. It's—it's Harry. Um. I just needed to talk to you about—y'know. The thing...? Gosh, I don't even know what I wanted to say. I'm sorry, I messed up. I—you—well. Milkshake thing. I'm calling about that. And my sister. I should've thought about what I was going to say before I ran out to call you, oh no . . . Now you're going to listen to this and just hear my rambles, aren't you? I think I knocked over a waiter on my way out, at this place called Steamed Lobster. He had drinks in his hand and some of it got on me, I'm just now realizing this." Harry looked down at the wet spot on his shirt. "It's cold—ah!" He suddenly shouted when thunder boomed nearby, his head tilting up to look at the sky. It's going to rain soon. "I hate thunder, Jesus. I hate rain. I hate that look you had on your face. I hate myself for being the one that put that look on your face. I hate—" Harry paused, squinting his eyes across the street where he spotted a large silhouette. "Large bodies at nighttime that look frighting. I hate that you sent me to voicemail and now the large body is moving closer to me, so I—" Then the voicemail reached the capacity of how long his message could be and ended. Harry stared at the body moving towards him and ran inside the building as quickly as he could.

\+ + +

"Did it go well?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and looked over to Liam, who was pointing at his dessert with the tip of his fork. 

"Did what go well?" Harry asked, grabbing his glass of tea and taking a sip of it. 

"The call. With Louis. Did it go well?" 

Harry looked around the circular table to find that they were all looking at him, waiting for his response. He didn't exactly know how to reply. Did it? Louis hadn't called back or messaged him after the call about twenty minutes ago. Harry doesn't think it went well. "Uh, I think—"

"Sir. Sir!" 

Harry turned around to find out who was shouting. The man at the front desk was, but the reason why had Harry's heart melting in his chest. There was Louis, trying to knock the man away so he could get to someone urgently. Louis was staring around the room, just before his eyes settled right onto Harry's. Harry released a gasp when Louis suddenly shoved the man out of the way and jogged over to the table he was sat at.

"You can't do that!" The man said, following after Louis. 

Louis reached Harry and puffed out air, slightly hunching over. Harry stood, the napkin in his lap falling to the floor. "It's all right, he's with me."

"But we have a dress code."

Harry made a noise out of annoyance, eyes trailing to Louis in confusion, before he stared back to the guy. When the guy grabbed Louis' forearm, that's when Harry stepped closer in alarm; Liam stood and discarded his suit jacket, tossing it to Louis and saying, "there. Problem solved," to the guy who was trying to escort Louis out of the restaurant.

Louis was quick to put it on, still restricted by the man who was reluctant to let him sit at the table. He kept his eyes on Harry, though, not even seeming to care that he was still unable to sit freely at the table. Finally, the man let Louis join, and as soon as he let him go, Louis flung himself straight at Harry and put his hands on his shoulders, eyes inspecting every inch of his body. "Are you okay?"

Harry was confused, but didn't do anything about Louis' hands roaming over his body. "I—yes. I am. Why? What is it?" 

"That voicemail, that's what's it!" He shouted, which resulted in people staring. 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, did I anger you? I didn't mean to, I just needed to talk to you. I'm so sorry, Lou," he said with a frown, shoulders hunching slightly. 

"No, you idiot," Louis said, raising Harry's head up. Harry blinked quickly and gulped. "You said there was a body coming closer to you, a large one. And then it ended so I thought something happened to you." Louis' hands moved away from Harry's face to rest against his chest. "So you're all right?"

Harry couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He thought his heart was going to explode. That was the sweetest thing; Louis journeyed out to find Harry just to see if he was okay, and if that didn't show that he cared about him, he didn't know what did. So he couldn't help himself when he threw his arms around Louis and pulled him into a tight hug, trying to bury his face in his neck and nosing at the soft, tan skin there. He smelled like cigarettes and rain, and God, he's wearing sweatpants and a bloody sports shirt. Harry felt the happiest he's been in a while. "I'm so good, Louis. So good," he muttered against his neck, feeling Louis' own arms wrap around the large boy clinging to him. Harry only grinned even more. He surprised himself when he left a tiny, innocent kiss a spot on his neck before pulling away. "Thank you for coming all this way just to see if I was okay, bear."

Louis looked up at Harry and dropped his hands to his sides, suddenly noticing the eyes everyone had on the pair. Harry could tell he knew what he wanted him to do, but Louis flushed and it was something Harry had only seen once. Louis was embarrassed. But then, he grabbed at the black button-up shirt Harry had on and tugged him down to his height, whispering, "anything for you, kitten."

Harry thought he was going to faint.


	18. ✿14✿

Someone cleared their throat, and that tore Harry and Louis out of their intense staring. Harry looked over, staring at his sister, before laughing awkwardly. "Louis," he said, motioning to Gemma. "This is my sister, remember her?"

Louis stared at Gemma, eyes widening as he blinked quickly, a smile spreading across his thin lips. "Sister! I mean . . . Gemma. Hello," he said, giving a polite wave. Harry smiles.

"Hi there. Would you like to join us? We've nearly just finished, but you can still sit," she sweetly said. 

"Yeah! Harry would like that," noted Niall.

Harry glared over at Niall, before turning his head to face Louis, who was already staring at him. Louis was smirking and it made Harry flush. "Mm, no. Wouldn't want to intrude." He starts to take off the jacket Liam had given him to wear.

Harry frowned and reached a hand out to stop him from taking off the coat. "No. You're not, sit." He pulled out the chair he was sitting at previously and motioned for Louis to sit. 

"Demanding," Louis muttered, taking a seat in Harry's chair. 

Harry giggled and stood behind him, since there were no other chairs around the table. 

"So, Louis. Tell me about yourself," Gemma said, finishing off her cheesecake. 

Louis placed his elbows on the table and looked around at everyone. "Well, I work at a tattoo shop. Twenty-four. I like Twenty One Pilots, skateboards, and football. I live alone, I'm single, I want a fish, but I think I'd forget to feed it so I won't get one," he said, tapping his fingers against the table. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

Niall butted in. "Tommo, did ya catch that wicked game the other night?"

Harry smiled when Louis perked up happily. "Oi, yeah! That was sick, had me hollerin' all over the place." Louis leaned back in the chair so Harry pulled his hands away from it. That made Louis look up with a brow raised. "You should sit here," he mumbled, seeming to have been talking to himself rather than Harry.

"No, no. I'm fine, you're the one that came all this way for me." Louis grumbled something that Harry didn't catch, so he tilted his head in confusion and jumped away when he suddenly scooted the chair back. "Lou—" says Harry, "what're you . . ." Harry trailed off when Louis reached for his arm, so he held it out and let Louis guide him in front of where he was sitting. He looked at Liam and chuckled awkwardly, confused as to why he was now standing in front of Louis, before he felt a pair of arms wrap around his hips and pull him down. Harry gasped and squealed, flopping down on his crush's lap. His eyes were wide and his hands were grasping the armrests, back pressing to Louis' front as he sprawled his legs out over Louis' thighs awkwardly.

"Better?"

Harry felt himself nod but didn't know if he actually did, unable to wrap his head around the fact that he was sat on Louis' lap (and it was Louis who pulled him down to sit; Harry was too shocked and flattered), his arms still around Harry's waist. And it was completely improper to be sitting on someone's lap at such a fancy restaurant such as this, and as he looked around, he felt that strange tingling feeling return in the pit of his stomach because of the fact that Louis was holding him in public. That made Harry only release an odd noise he's never made before, something between a low purr and an animal sounding hum. Niall looked at him as Liam and Gemma were talking about school, and then he felt a hand just softly graze his thigh, so he turned to look at Louis, who wasn't looking at him, but over at Liam and Gemma's direction. There was a look on his face that just read that he heard the noise Harry made. He flushed, widened his eyes, gulped, and then shook his head in confusion. Louis had been so rude to Harry for months; suddenly, after getting along only a few times, he's changed his behavior completely. It confused him. He wanted Louis to touch him like this, rub at his thigh with an arm around his waist, but what had made Louis change his mind about Harry? He wanted to know. (But he had a feeling deep down that this was the Louis he saw when he stared into his eyes. The one that was showing when Harry cried into his chest and helped calmed him down. So maybe the real question was: why was he rude to begin with?)

A waiter came by; Harry saw him coming. He shifted as the waiter stared at the two boys in the seat. "We can certainly offer you a chair, sir," he said with a nod of his head.

He felt Louis tighten his grip on his thigh. "That won't be necessa—"

"Actually, I think we were just about to leave," Harry murmured, eyeing around the table. Everyone seemed to be done eating. "Thank you." He stood after saying that, avoiding Louis' gaze and sticking a hand in his pocket. He caught Gemma's stare, though, and her facial expression held a confused one. 

They all stood soon after, the waiter smiling and saying, "you're welcome" to Harry before he left. Either they didn't catch on to Harry's odd change in behavior, or they did and they didn't ask about it. It didn't take long to pay after the same waiter came by with the check. Gemma had paid for everyone's meal; that only reminded Harry that he needed to ask why Gemma popped by and where she got the money to afford such an expensive place. As they were trying to catch a cab, Harry felt a tug on his arm. He let out a noise of surprise but calmed down when he realized it was Louis tugging him away. 

He stood against the same column Harry stood while calling Louis earlier. Louis looked at Harry intently, his arms crossing. His tongue darted out to run over the lip ring; Louis' nervous. "You're acting strange. Is everything okay?"

Harry shifted, his hands coming together to fiddle with nervously. "I'm . . ." He trailed off, not knowing what he should say. He had never been good with putting his thoughts into words. "Confused."

Louis furrowed his eyebrows and reached out for Harry's hand. "'Bout what, H?"

"I dunno . . ." Harry said, knowing what he would say could possibly offend Louis. It's not like he would mean to, it's just that he's awful with words. It depresses him; he's a man and he can't even talk correctly. 

Louis senses his hesitance and drops his hands, so he could place his own on the collar of Harry's shirt. "Hey," he muttered, messing with the fabric. "You do know. Tell me."

Harry stared at Louis for a while, loving that he was being so patient. So he parted his lips, about to talk, but then he heard Liam yell, "boys! Got the cab, let's go!" That made Harry pout and turn his head; Niall got in the back of the taxi while Liam held the door open for Gemma. They both stared at the two boys. Harry didn't know how all of them were going to fit in there. 

"Ugh," he groaned, grabbing at Liam's jacket that Louis was still wearing as he made his way over to the cab. Louis suddenly stopped walking, though, which made Harry stop walking and turn to face him. "What is it? Let's go, we'll drop you off at yours," he whined out.

Louis laughed but still didn't move. "Sorry," he whispered, "I brought my car." He started to take off the jacket, handing it to Harry, a soft smile on his lips. "I'll see you?"

Harry held the jacket in his hands with a frown, eyes never leaving Louis'. "Uh . . ." He huffed. He didn't want to leave Louis yet; he was about to tell him what was on his mind, something that's hard for him to do, and now he has to go. 

"Jesus, guys," Gemma said, walking over to them. She took the jacket from Harry's hands and shoved him towards Louis. "Go with him. I'll see you goobers later." And as she said that, she hopped into the taxi, followed by Liam, and then it drove off.

Harry released a low hum of confusion, before turning to Louis with a smile. Louis was closer to him than he thought, which had him holding his breath. "Let's go somewhere. Follow me, Harold," smiled Louis, who grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him away from the street. 

Harry was giggling and following compliantly, letting Louis drag him wherever he wanted. And where that was, was across the street. He had his eyes searching for the car he assumed they were going to head in, but Louis had walked away from the nearest parking lots, and at one point, Harry could've sworn he saw Louis' car a block away from where they're at now. He should ask where he's being dragged, but the feeling of that smaller hand in his own keeps him quiet. Louis Tomlinson, the guy with a big mouth but small frame. It's adorable, really, Harry loves it; he likes being taller and bigger, it makes him feel like he's got an advantage over Louis. Because Harry is Harry—he's shy and emotional and a push-over, and just has the innocence of a child. But he isn't a child, even if he's sometimes treated like one. And Louis has this thing where he acts like he's the taller one. He's got a persona that lets everyone know he's in charge, even if he's built small unlike Harry. Harry doesn't mind that, either. He's always been unusually compliant around hot guys. But then Louis was tugging him into a dark alley before Harry knew it, and that didn't settle well with him.

"Lou," he whispered, hands becoming clammy. "Are you going to murder me?"

He heard Louis snort. "You're such a dork, Haz. Just taking a shortcut, s'all."

Harry was quiet for a moment, letting himself be guided by Louis. ". . . And then you're gonna murder me?" Harry focused at the end of the alley, where he could see a street light near the road ahead.

"Haaaaaarry," he drawled out, "no. I like you too much for that."

Harry didn't know if he was having an asthma attack or what, but he soon found it hard to breathe after Louis said that. He was shocked, too shocked to speak—let alone breathe. He knew he meant it in a platonic way, knew Louis wouldn't mean it any other way, but God, it felt wonderful to hear that coming from the boy he's liked for so long. 

Suddenly, Louis stops walking, right as they were about to head out into the street. Harry finally decides to talk. "What's goin' on?" He questions curiously. 

Louis just gives him a smile and knocks a couple of times on the door they're standing in front of. Harry sticks both his hands in his pockets with a frown, feeling as if they were doing something wrong. He stood behind Louis, like he was hiding behind him for protection, and then blinked at the man who opened the door. He had shaggy brown hair and a lot of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks—Harry could tell that much from the light coming in from behind the boy. The boy looks at Louis and raises his eyebrows, then slumps his shoulders and steps aside, nodding inside the building for them to come in. Harry's reluctant to do so, until Louis grabs his forearm and tells him to come inside. So he does, avoiding the boy Louis had called Mark as he stepped inside. 

"Is this illegal?" Harry whispered to Louis, leaning into his side as he watched Mark lead them through the hall.

He felt Louis laugh beside him. "No, it isn't. Are you always this nervous?" 

Harry was about to answer, but when he saw the giant tank appear, he gasped and widened his eyes. A long aquarium stretched out ahead of him, both large and small fish swimming around. He's in awe by the beauty of it all; he's never been to an aquarium. It's just so nice and blue and pretty—he couldn't handle it. He moved away from Mark and Louis to get closer to the tank, hand pressing to it and feeling the way the lukewarm water made the glass feel nice against his clammy palm. He spotted fish he'd never recognized before, and when he spotted a clown fish, he couldn't help but mutter a quote from Finding Nemo. 

"What was that, Harry?" He heard Louis ask behind him. 

He still watched the fish swim around rocks, not even caring if that wasn't what Louis wanted to show him. "Fish are friends, not food," he repeated happily, finally turning to look at Louis. He found him smiling, so Harry returned the smile, until he glanced towards a bored looking Mark. "Sorry," he quickly apologized, resuming his previous position beside Louis. 

It was quiet as they continued to follow Mark, Harry's eyes constantly glancing towards the tanks that held different kinds of fish and sea creatures. He felt a hand rest on the small of his back and instantly smiled, absentmindedly leaning further into Louis' side. He then stood on his tip toes to lean closer to Harry, so he ducked down only slightly, preparing himself for the words Louis would say. 

It's quiet, but it's the most adorable thing Harry thinks Louis has ever said. 

Because he just whispered, "mine, mine" in an Australian accent. He quoted Finding Nemo, and all Harry could repeat in his head was: his. And that wasn't a Finding Nemo quote.


	19. ❁15❁

Harry wasn't scared. He wasn't. At least, that's what he's been trying to convince himself as he and Louis sat at the edge of the aquarium. Mark had let them climb up into the section where the workers feed the fish, and also get in with them, so they're just hanging around near the water and it isn't making Harry uncomfortable, no. What is, is just the fact that Louis seems like the type of guy to push someone into the water. 

"Harry, you've gotta get your hand in the water," Louis said from his hunched over position, shoes off and feet in the water. Harry muttered something under his breath and crossed his arms. Louis, sensing his hesitance, straightened up and turned his head to look at Harry. "Scared of the fish, are you?"

Harry let his hands fall to his sides, now wanting to prove that he wasn't. "No way." With that, he slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up what he could of his tight jeans, and made his way over to Louis, plopping down next to him and letting his feet fall into the water. But then he felt something grab his foot; it had him releasing a girlish squeal and pulling his foot out, crawling backwards, away from the water. "They'll eat my feet!"

Louis was cackling at that, wet hands grasping his shirt as he shook from laughter. "Oh―" His laughter came again; Harry huffed with a frown, practically pouting like a child. "You're so jumpy," he said, trying to wipe the tears that he'd formed from laughing so hard, but just ended up getting his face wetter from his soaked hands. "That was me hands, Harry." He stared, grinning, but then the smile faltered when he really looked at Harry. "C'mon, love, was a joke. That's all. Help me feed the fish now."

Harry was hesitant, but he slowly made his way over to Louis and sat back down next to him. Louis, with a faint smile on his lips, scooped up the dry fish food in his right hand and dumped it in the palm of Harry's. He shook his head, not really liking that it was a possibility that the fish could bite him. Then he'd get a disease. A disease that only fish have that can get transmitted into humans only by biting them. And then, just because Harry is the unluckiest person in the world, there wouldn't be a cure and he'd die. Or become a merman. He'd have to live in the sea for the rest of his life and try to speak the language the fish do, just to make friends, and try to make things out of seaweed and pebbles, maybe start a job out of it and get paid in sand dollars. Or he'd just get a really bad infection, that would be more likely than transforming into a merman. But that would be a great story, so Harry decided to keep that to himself in case being a florist didn't work out. 

"Can't feed them if you're scared of getting your hand a little wet. Well. You can, but it's not as fun."

Harry laughed nervously and stared at his hand, pushing away his wild imagination and just going for it. He closed his hand around the dried shrimp and dipped his hand into the water, opening his hand. Fish swam around, reluctant to move over to his hand until he completely stilled his shaky hand. But then one fish found the courage to go for the food secured in his fingers, and then he wimped out, pulled his hand out of the water, and watched as the fish scurried off. "Oh, God," he whispered out, eyes wide. "That was too close."

Louis was laughing, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. Harry shoved his wet hand at him and tried to muster up his most frightening glare. "Harry―" He said between laughs. "That fish . . . " He opened his eyes and started to laugh again at the look he received from Harry. "Pinky . . . The size of my pinky, mate. The bloody fish was the size of my pinky and you were scared of it." Louis grinned and looked over Harry's sour features. "You're too cute for your own good, kitten. Too cute."

That made him flush, cheeks flooding with heat. But he kept eye contact with Louis and shyly smiled at the unexpected compliment, not noticing how close they were until now. Harry's hand was still against Louis' chest from when he'd shoved him earlier. Something within him suddenly shifted, a feeling he couldn't explain coursing in his veins. It's suddenly too hot when Louis grasps his soft fingers around Harry's wrist, smile soon fading from his lips. Everything is suddenly silent and it's just them in the room―no fish, no people on the floor watching the fish―just them. It's harder to breathe when it's just them like this, Harry realizes, but as Louis moves his head closer to his own, Harry concludes that it doesn't matter if he can't breathe around the guy he likes so much, and that if oxygen was what he had to give up to be this close to him, then it was completely and utterly worth it. He's not good at breathing most of the time anyway, so he could live with this. But then they're noses bumped and Harry didn't know what was going on, yet he didn't pull away. Harry decided to do something he knew he couldn't mess up on and just bump his nose against Louis' again, rubbing it twice before they rested their foreheads against one another's. The blue eyed boy suddenly stuck his chin out, which made their lips so close to touching. Harry didn't know if this was real life, so he didn't shut his eyes as he parted his lips and moved forward. 

What happened next was too quick for Harry to comprehend. His brain didn't seem to collect any thoughts on how to move his legs and arms, and he certainly didn't process how in one instant he was about to kiss Louis, and in another he ended up in water. Swimming should be easy for him, but his foggy mind couldn't force his limbs to move. That is until he was running out of air, and not in the good way he was before. Somehow he pushed himself up to the surface and gasped for air, hair flopping over his eyes. He was quick to move it away and rub a hand over his eyes to rid any water, frowning as he peered up at Louis. He didn't know why Louis would push him into the water, didn't want to think too much on it because he knew he would overthink the situation, but then Louis started laughing, and only seconds later, Harry was too. He swam over to the edge of the platform Harry sat at before he was pushed into the water and stuck his tongue out at Louis. "You bully!" He shouted out, huffing. "I'm soaking wet, you―you . . ." Louis raised his eyebrow. "You booty bum!" He ignored the laughter that his mean friend released and held out a hand. "Help me out."

Louis' hand was in Harry's, and as soon as that happened, he knew he couldn't let Louis off the hook so easily. He wasn't going to go throughout the night soaking wet alone. So he grasped the hand firmly, looked right into Louis' eyes, and then gave him a forceful tug. Louis shot into the water, falling in with a loud splash, and Harry really enjoyed this too much to stop laughing. He loved it, really; thought it was an evil genius move to make. That is until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and tug him under the water without warning. He felt water go up his nose and struggled to free himself of the tight arms, not wanting to open his eyes underwater. After a moment of struggling, he was freed from Louis' strong hold and resurfaced, immediately coughing and trying to catch a breath. 

"Harry, hey. You okay?" Louis rested a hand against his shoulder, any sign of playfulness gone.

Harry nodded, wet hair flopping onto his face as his coughs eased to just a clearing of the throat. "Think so," he quietly said, voice noticeably hoarse from so much coughing.

Louis smiled, squeezing at his shoulders, believing Harry when he said he thought he was all right. "The night is still young, Harold boy. Let's find more things to do before the boss gets Mark in trouble for sneaking us in and taking a swim with the fish."

The younger boy's eyes widened. "Oh, no . . ." He shifted around and started to float to the platform. "Poor Mark. I blame you if he gets fired," Harry teased, placing his hands firmly against the stone before pushing himself out of the water. He flopped onto it and squirmed his way up until he was able to sit down on it, offering Louis help when he swam by to get out. 

Louis didn't reply to Harry's comment, too focused on getting out, but as soon as he sat down next to the curly-haired boy, he started in on it. "Blame me?!" He shouted, their thighs touching. "You pulled me into the water. We're both at fault here."

Harry gaped, shocked that Louis was putting this on him. "You knocked me into the water first!"

"Just your word against mine. Honestly, Harry," he dramatically said, trying to stand up. "Swimming in the tank? Without permission? Shame on you. And to pull a friend down with you! Shame, shame."

He scoffed, but couldn't help smiling; Louis' cute when joking around like this. "You filthy liar," Harry'd said as he tried to stand, only to slip and crumble at Louis' feet, now on his knees.

"Oh, do stand, Harold. You accuse me of being filthy, yet here you are, you obscene boy, on your knees for me."

Harry immediately flushed (he's done that a lot around Louis today, but he just assumed that's a thing he's gonna have to live with while being around his crush so often), eyes widening as he looked up at Louis. He didn't intend on slipping and getting himself into a position like this, but once Louis pointed it out, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed. He scrambled to his feet in no time, arms crossing as he avoided eye contact. He hoped Louis wasn't staring at his red cheeks.

"Ah." Harry heard Louis mutter. "Forgot that sexual jokes disturb you, even when you tried to deny it." 

Harry wanted to protest, but he shivered and knew that what he could say would just wind up embarrassing himself even more. He did make the mistake of taking a glance down Lou's body, and God, that shouldn't be allowed. No one should look so good in a soaked, sleeveless shirt like Louis does. It clings to the curve of his hips and Harry actually drooled. He hadn't known if Louis saw, since he was quick to wipe his chin, but if he did, he chose to ignore it for Harry's sake and guide him out the way they came in by the elbow. "Lou," Harry said, a thought suddenly hitting him. "We're soaked, shouldn't we dry off somehow?"

Louis only smiled.

\+ + +

Turns out, there were lockers filled with other people's clothes that Louis could sneak in to and steal. Harry started to protest, not knowing if he wanted to wear some random guy's clothes, but he was convinced in no time. Louis' adorable grin and sly winks could get Harry to do anything, he soon realizes, so that's how he ends up with a tight-fitting Nirvana shirt with a pair of gray pants he could barely button up and fit like Capri's on him. Louis wore a purple button up that would most likely fit Harry better than it did him, but he didn't want to question him on it. He wore a type of khaki shorts with it that actually fit him pretty well. Soon, they're out of the room and scrambling down the hall where they came in at. Harry, approaching the tank he saw Nemo in, shouted, "good-bye, Nemo!" and then exited the building altogether. 

Harry was laughing uncontrollably, feeling a type of freedom he hadn't felt since he was just a younger boy. The last time he had felt this way was when he stole about ten pounds from his mother and sneaked out to buy himself some food from a few streets over. Nothing reckless, but he was alone and it was a sense of freedom he'd never felt before. That was short-lived, though, because his mother had eventually caught him. 

"Where to, H?" 

Harry grinned, moving his shoulders around to get used to the tight-fitting shirt, and then looking over to Louis. He looked good under the dim lighting. "Dunno, up for anything."

Louis raised his brows. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Sweet, little Tarzan."

"Tarzan?" Harry crinkled his nose and let Louis lead him out of the alley. It seemed like the rain didn't come, but just moved on. Strange. 

"Yeah, you look like Tarzan with your hair like that," Louis said, muttering something under his breath Harry didn't catch.

He combed a hand through his hair and blushed yet again; Harry seems to blush at everything Louis says, no matter what the words are. Then they both started to walk together, down the road, in peace. It was nice, Harry liked the quiet and Louis' hand in his. He didn't know if this would be a normal thing, the flirting and hand-holding, but he for sure wasn't going to put a stop to it. Louis had blossomed, and not one rude comment had been made. Would this last or was it one of those spare-of-the-moment things? Was Louis just in a good mood? Harry didn't know what would happen in the future, and honestly, with their fingers laced together and Louis' soft words being spoken, he didn't mind. He just decided to cherish it.


	20. ✿16✿

"Harry?"

He looked over to Liam and raised his eyebrows. Liam had his phone pulled out, eyebrows furrowing. "Yeah, Li?" He said, running a hand through his un-brushed hair. 

"Have you been avoiding Ed?"

Harry was confused. He wasn't―at least he thought he wasn't. He pulled his phone out and unlocked it, pulling up the messaging app and looking for Ed's name. And then he frowned, because he'd realized he hadn't opened any messages from him. Harry had been busy with work, and Louis, that he completely forgot about replying to Ed for the past few days. He felt so rude and sad about being so rude, so he quickly typed up a message that said:

Harry: Ed!! im so sorry I havent gotten back with you mate :( how are you?? Are you well?

Harry turned to Liam after sending that, and sighed. "I didn't realize I was, I'm sorry. Been so caught up with―"

"Louis?"

He frowned and looked away. "Guess I have. It's just . . . these past few days he's been so kind to me. He even brought me a sandwich from Firehouse Subs! He's never done that before." It was true. Louis had been unusually kind to Harry, even coming out to have small talk without the smoking. He doesn't think Louis has ever come out to his flower stand without smoking, and that just means he wanted to talk to Harry. He was loving it, loving all the attention. He only hoped it would stay like that.

"I'm not getting on to you for not texting someone, Harry. I just know that Ed thinks you're a sweet guy and you should at least give him the time of day," he firmly said.

Harry huffed, felt his phone buzz, and then looked down at it. 

Eddyyy: Harry youre fine, trust me bub. Life gets hectic, I know! I've been great. How are you?

Harry: Youre so nice what. I'm doing great too!! Thanks for asking pie pie

Harry: I meant sweetiepie but then my phone wouldnt take sweetiepie as one word and then corrected to pie pie oh my

Eddyyy: Blasted autocorrect. If you wanted to write sweetiepie as one word, then it shouldve just let ya. Can't say I didn't laugh though ;)

Harry: I was just being duummmbbbbbb. Only I would write sweetiepie as one word and then have it corrected to pie pie bc my life is just a flowery mess

Harry then looked over to Liam with a serious look. "I'm suddenly craving pie."

\+ + +

It had been just a few weeks and Louis was still exactly the same. Kind and caring, bringing Harry lunch when he forgot to get it himself, and keeping him company when it was a slow day for the both of them at work. He was on cloud nine, really. Harry doesn't know of a time where he was this happy, knowing that Louis might actually reciprocate the feelings Harry's had for him. It's possible, he likes to think. Why else would he be so nice? 

Not only had Harry gotten closer to Louis, but he had also gotten closer to Ed. It blew him away how kind Ed is and how he easily became friends with him. It was quick; soon Harry felt comfortable telling him the most ridiculous things because Ed was so easy-going and understanding and amazing. Even lets him talk about Louis and that night they spent together. That night was one he'd always remember―one of those times where he just sat back in the moment and admired Louis and what was happening, knew it'd be one worth remembering and thinking back to. 

After that aquarium thing, Louis had dragged Harry back to his car so that they could warm up and see what else awaited them in the busy night. Louis had thrown a fit, though, because his radio had quit working. "Bloody thing," he had said. "Can't even listen to some good music to set the mood."

Harry'd just laughed and started singing, deciding to be the radio himself. He sang show tunes, ones he knew were well-known, and Louis had even tried doing the instrument noises if there was a guitar solo. He hadn't laughed that hard in a while. After driving around for a while, Louis had found an abandoned parking lot and drove directly to the top. They both had sat on top of the car to enjoy the way bits of London looked from the spot. That had been when Louis brought up why Harry was upset back at the restaurant, but in that moment, Harry only realized that he'd do anything to keep the moment peaceful. "I was just overthinking," he'd said. Louis replied with, "Oh. Well, you should know, sometimes overthinking is just stressful and tiring, and it's nice to voice those 'overthinking' thoughts. Anytime you feel like talking to release some of that stress . . . I'm here."

He wouldn't ever forget that conversation. It's locked away in one of those bits of memories that you know will always be remembered. 

But then he was snapped out of his reminiscent moment when he felt water splash onto his hand. He jumped, set down his watering can, and then grabbed at one of his cleaning towels to soak up the mess. He heard a familiar laugh and glanced to his left, finding Louis staring at him with a wide smile. He was leaning back against the tattoo's shop―Ink-Ink's―window. Harry didn't know how long he'd been standing there. (And he was near the shop's logo, so honestly, a place that sounds so familiar to oink-oink would never fail to make Harry laugh.)

"Oi, and what's so funny, lad?" He asked, stepping cautiously closer to Harry.

He only shook his head and grabbed his watering can, resuming his duties as a street florist. "Nothin'."

Louis grabbed the metal bars against the stand and tightened his fingers around them. His brow was raised and Harry was sure, by how much he's raising that eyebrow, that he'll get wrinkles soon above it. "Riiight. Y'know, I've been out here for five minutes and you didn't notice me once. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

Harry flushed and put aside his watering can again. He maneuvered around to behind the stand and caught a glimpse of the building across the street, one recently put up for sale, and decided this was his way to change the subject. "That building's for sale. Since when?" He asked, honestly curious.

Louis studied him, eyes trailing over his features, but then he released his tense grip on the bar and stared over at the building as well. "Dunno, a week, maybe. Possibly a few days, I guess. Why? Looking to expand the business?"

"I―well," he stopped and looked down. "Would that be too big of a dream to accomplish?" Harry asked, voice going soft and quiet.

In just a moment he felt Louis' hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "No way. Anything is possible if you just believe."

Harry tilted his head and stared at Louis. "Was that a quote from Disney?"

Louis looked confused. "No―Louis." He waved a dismissive hand. "Anyway, if you want to expand, I think you should. You're not doing so bad right now, just imagine if you took it to the next level."

"Yeah?" He smiled and looked over to the building again. It was in the middle of two other buildings, a bake shop and a coffee one. He can imagine fixing up the building and painting it a bright color to attract attention. Maybe yellow. It would definitely look better than that dreadful tan one. And it would be across from the place Louis works at. This just seems like a dream. It's perfect. "I should get the realtor's number on that sign then, hm?" He happily said, feeling confident. He'd stashed money away to be able to have a little cash for a building of his own, so he wasn't completely broke. 

"You should."

Wow, he thought, I'm thinking about buying a building that I don't even know the price of. Okay, Harry, don't fall in love with it, you haven't even seen the inside. It could be falling apart. It could be filthy. It could be―

"Harry!" 

The building was out of his vision, and now, a boy with ginger hair blocked his way. But he soon stopped the pout he was about to give off and perked up, smiling widely at Ed and throwing his arms around him. "E-Dawg!"

Ed laughed and hugged him back briefly. "Thought that nickname was forgotten about," he muttered, nudging at Harry's stomach.

Harry suddenly gave him a serious look. "Never." Ed laughed and stuck his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a simple green shirt and jeans. "Come, I shall introduce you to my friend," he giggled out, wrapping his fingers around his upper arm and guiding him over to where Louis stood silently. Louis glanced between them, stiff, but Harry didn't notice. "Lou! This is my friend Ed."

Ed stepped away from Harry to hold his hand out towards Louis. "S'pleasure," he nodded, shaking Louis' hand. 

"Hm," Louis hummed, nodded, and pulled his hand out of Ed's. He looked at Harry. "Your boyfriend?"

Harry's lips parted and he flushed, immediately remembering the time Louis was snooping through his phone and had questioned him about Ed, asking if they were a couple. "No," he frowned. 

Ed laughed, easing the tension between the two. "Nah, just friends. This one here is too wrapped up in someone named Lewis―Wait, no, that's not right . . . Aha! Louis. That was the name, I remember now. Man, he can talk someone's ear off about that guy. Have you met him?" He asked, oblivious to Harry's widened eyes and Louis' smug look. Ed wasn't dumb, though, and with a couple glances between them, he soon realized what he'd done. "Oh . . . Oh, no, look what I've done. Dammit, Edward, that's why you have to quit the rambling." He awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck and turned to Harry. "I'm gonna go call a cab."

Harry nodded and watched him walk off, leaving him with a smug Louis. Smug Louis meant Embarrassed Harry. "I like him," was all Louis said instead.

Still blushing, he laughed. "He's nice." Awkward. It's awkward. Or he's awkward. But he's always awkward . . .

"So, not your boyfriend, then, because you're too wrapped up in me." Oh, there's the teasing.

Harry exhaled and threw his hand up. "Not literally!"

"Of course not literally, dork."

"Just clarifying," he huffed. Louis laughed and Harry narrowed his eyes. "Are you going to tease me?"

"Yes. But it looks like Ed's caught a cab and is coming for you. Going somewhere?" Louis pulled out a cigarette. 

"Yeah, Ed wanted to hang out for lunch. Mind putting my sign up on the flower stand for me, Lou?" Harry tried to politely ask, using his begging eyes. His 'begging eyes' was when he batted his eyelashes and tried to make his eyes big. It almost always worked.

Louis sighed. "That stupid 'be a coward and don't steal my flowers' one? Ugh, fine."

Harry clapped his hands and leaned forward, kissing Louis' cheek as a thank you, and then pulling away with red cheeks and bright eyes. He waved as he walked away, constantly glancing back towards Louis to see when he'd wave back. When he did, Harry got in the cab.

\+ + +

Ed watched Harry from across the table with a smile, admiring the way he pulled his hand up to his mouth when he ate or laughed at a crappy joke Ed would say. Truth is, Ed would jump at the opportunity to take Harry out on an actual date; he's just so cute and sweet and rather innocent in a way that didn't make him seem childish. He admired that innocence and wanted to protect it from getting damaged, because that good, kindheartedness is such a rarity to find. But Ed is also an admirer of love, and he knew that Harry's feelings towards Louis could turn into that. He wouldn't stand in the way of that. Especially if he has a shot at just being Harry's friend―that's good enough for him. 

"You really didn't have to pay," Harry said with a slight pout. Ed wondered if that was a habit.

"They're just burgers," Ed laughed, taking bite out of the burger. It was a burger joint that wasn't too popular, but he'd been coming here since he moved to the big city, and the burgers were to die for. He could eat three if he wanted, but he didn't want to come off as a pig, so he only ordered two. 

"Delicious ones, my God." Harry moaned as he bit into the burger again.

"Right? It's why I gained twenty pounds when I moved."

Harry giggled and shook his head. "Why did you move here?" 

Ed put his burger down at wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Ahhhh," he breathed out, shifting in his seat. "Ready for story time?" Harry nodded happily. "I moved here to pursue a dream of mine. Ever since I was a youngster, I wanted to write and sing. I've got a few things out there, but I'm still waiting for my big moment. That song that catches everyone's attention, y'know?" Harry only smiled. "Yeah, um . . . It'll happen. I believe you can accomplish anything if you work hard for it," Ed said, shyly picking at a fry. He cleared his throat. "But what about you? What do you want to accomplish?"

Harry immediately flushed and set his hands in his lap. His head tilted to the side, chin rubbing at his shoulder with a shy smile. "Um, it's rather silly . . ."

"No," Ed quickly said. "Any dream is not silly."

Harry scratched his head and nodded. "I want to open a store. I mean, like, for flowers. Flower store. Florist. I wanna be a . . . florist with my own flower shop and stuff. I've only got a small stand right now because it's all I could afford and stuff, but I want to have my own building with a logo and cute cards and maybe even a website. Is that . . . weird?" Harry quietly asked, brows furrowing as he stared at Ed.

"Of course not," he said, smiling softly. "I think it's wonderful. You've got a passion for flowers, I can see it, and passion is the closest thing we have to super-abilities, I'm tellin' ya. It's powerful. And I see that you're a hard-working man." Ed raised two hands. "So we have hard-working―" He raised his right hand. "And passion." He lifted his left hand. "And put them together, well . . ." He clasped his hands together and laughed. "Jesus, Harry, you'll be unstoppable."

Harry perked up and had a hopeful smile. "You believe I could do it?"

"Do you?"

That caught him off guard. "I mean . . . I'm not―I don't know," he said with a frown. "Nothing good has ever really happened to me before, so I can't fathom anything I want actually working out."

Ed sighed. "Harry, I think you're setting such a low bar for how talented you are. Jesus, man, on the way here you pointing out different types of weeds in the ground. Recognize your talent and grow confident in it."

Harry sadly laughed. "I didn't know knowing plants was a talented thing."

"We're all given talents." Ed tossed a fry in his mouth and chewed. "Your talent isn't just flowers, no, you've got a rare gift." 

"I do?" Harry quietly asked.

"Yeah. Making people happy. You make people happy, what with this lovely outlook you have on things. It's admirable, wish I could make people happy by muttering just a few simple words."

Harry grinned and laughed. "Awww, Eddyyyy!" He drawled out. "That's so sweet of you to say, you're gonna make me cry. Thank you for listening to me and talking with me about this. Definitely boosted my confidence, for sure," he said, playfully grabbing a fry and tossing it in Ed's direction.

Ed caught it and wiggled his eyebrows. "Anytime, mate, anytime."

"Okay, Edweirdo.”

// AN: i put edwardo a few chap’s back bc his name is spelled edward. also i was like 15/16 when i first wrote this no judgment pls ):


	21. 16½

Louis grumbled some unhappy words as he looked through at all the types of cereal. There was the off-brand kind that was cheaper than the cereal he liked, but he didn't know if the off-brand Cinnamon Toast Crunch was just as good as the first. Considering Louis wasn't the best cook, this would be what he would eat all the time. It was a big deal. Save money and maybe get good cereal or use the money and get great cereal? He was huffing, holding up both boxes of cereal and trying to make a decision. 

"Ugh, trying to choose cereal again?"

Louis froze. A shiver went down his spine as he stared wide-eyed at the cereal in his hands, hoping that it wasn't who he thought it was. But of course it was—he could recognize that voice anywhere. That stupid Irish voice that once told him he was perfect and beautiful and amazing—the same one that told him he was annoying and ugly and too feminine. Maybe if he ignored Matt, he would keep on walking.

"Did you hear me?" He stepped closer to Louis. "Don't tell me you've gone deaf, now."

Louis frowned, but then realized that he could say what he wanted. He wasn't going to hold back his words like he did when they were in a relationship. He's not feminine; he's manly and strong. Louis turned and rolled his eyes, lowering the cereal to his sides. "What do you want?"

Matt smirked, brown eyes staring right at Louis' blue ones. "Can't talk to you anymore?"

"No, in fact. You cannot." 

Matt looked caught off-guard by how stern Louis was being. "Did your balls finally drop? 'Bout time."

Louis felt his face go hot with anger. "I don't have time for this," he grumbled, deciding to go with Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He tossed the other box carelessly on the shelf behind him and shoved Matt out of the way, trying to step past him. But then he grabbed his arm. Louis growled.

"Rushing off to your new toy, are you?" Matt leaned forward. Louis felt his hot breath against his ear and tried to get out of Matt's firm hold. "Bet he doesn't even know what you did, you pathetic whore. It's only a matter of time before he finds out and ditches your ass. After all, no one really wants to be with such a useless boy."

Louis, shaking with anger, turned around and slapped Matt. He was shocked and loosened his grip on Louis, so he took the chance to pull his arm free and take a step away from him. "He's not you. He actually has a heart, unlike you, you incompetent dickhead." He felt pleased when Matt looked truly offended, and then stomped off with his cereal in hand. He didn't want to think about Matt and his words, knew if he did he would believe him. He doesn't want to believe him. 

\+ + +

Louis wasn't sure what he was doing when he found himself at Harry's (and Liam's and Niall's) door. He would've talked to Zayn, would have definitely gone to him, but he said Madeline had made plans with him tonight. Louis had noticed the two of them hanging out often, but he didn't think much of it. Just two friends hanging out, like they normally did. He just gets upset when his best friend isn't there for him when he needs him. It's not like he expects Zayn to drop what he's doing, but c'mon, it's just Madeline. 

He knocked a few times, held his arm back, and when no one answered, he knocked again. He didn't know if it was urgent or not. (Zayn often said that when he had his bad thoughts that he should talk to someone he trusts, and he trusts Harry and believes what Zayn says about talking to someone. So here he is, wanting to talk. He doesn't want to be the old Louis and shut people out.)

Liam opened the door and looked at Louis with furrowed brows. "Louis?" Liam pushed the door all the way open and motioned for Louis to come inside with his head. "What're you doing here?"

The door shut behind Louis and he looked around, anxious. "Is Harry here?"

Liam crossed his arms and shook his head. "No, he's out with his sister before she heads off. Why? Is something wrong?"

Louis frowned and headed for the door. "No, no. I'll just go."

Liam grabbed his arm and was oblivious to the way Louis flinched away. "Hey, no. You came all this way, you can just stay until he gets back. It won't be too long, now. And we've got takeaway, do you want any?" Liam started to walk over to the kitchen and then sighed. "That is if NIALL hasn't eaten it all," he said with a shout of Niall's name. 

Louis laughed through his nose and followed Liam with crossed arms, trying to push the feeling of awkwardness away. "I'm not hungry, but thanks."

Niall, who was leaning against the counter with Chinese food in his hand, looked over at Louis with squinted eyes. "Lou, you seem blue. Blue Lou." Niall snorted at his rhyme, but groaned when Liam elbowed him. 

Was it that obvious? He scratched the back of his neck. "I—no. I'm fine." He looked at Liam. "When will Harry be here?"

Liam pulled out his phone and moved his thumb up and down the screen, and then looked over at Louis. "He said around ten thirty, so about forty-five minutes from now, I suppose. Do you . . . is this important? Does he know you're here?"

Louis huffed and ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with the eyes on him. He flushed and then huffed, because he doesn't like feeling vulnerable and small like this. "He doesn't," he quietly said, placing a hand on the chair in front of him. "It's not important, it's . . . silly. Yeah. Silly. I think I'll go, though. Tell him I was here, yeah?"

Liam stared at Louis with a soft gaze, brows only slightly furrowed. His lips parted, about to say something, but then he glanced at Niall and shut his mouth. With a nod, Liam walked Louis back to the door. Louis was glad that Liam didn't get curious and start asking questions. He could just walk out and not have to deal with anything. He thinks he's fine. He hopes he'll be okay on his own. 

"Louis," Liam quietly said.

Louis huffed and leaned back against the door with a bored expression. "What?"

"Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

He laughed and put on a smile. "Yes! Positive, mate." He turned to grab the door handle before Liam could question him again, and as he opened the door, he stopped. "Uh, maybe you shouldn't tell Harry I was here. I know he'll just come looking for me and it's getting too late for him to do that." Leaning against the open door, he faced Liam. "Can you just . . . forget what I said about telling him I was here?" There was a hesitant look on Liam's face that made him roll his eyes. "I'll text him, okay? See you, and don't tell Harry!" Louis shouted as he shut the door and started to walk away. 

A feeling suddenly hit him as he was walking out of the building alone. Liam has Niall. Harry has Ed, his sister, and his two best friends. Zayn has Madeline. Do any of them really need a problematic twenty-four year old to deal with? If this was a story, what would he be? If he isn't at least an antagonist, then what is he? Louis supposes none of them need a useless character in this story of theirs, and decides to back off for good. Pushing others away is what he's good at, and he knows, at the end of all of this, he'll only be alone anyway, so what better way to cope than to have been alone already? To live a life without needing anyone but himself?


	22. ❁17❁

Harry watched as Gemma posed in front of Big Ben, her cheeks sucked in and lips looking like a fish's mouth. He laughed, snapped the photo, and then gave her the phone. She took it happily and laughed. "Oh, that's definitely a keeper." 

He hummed in agreement and let her hold onto his arm, leading her over to the Westminster bridge over The Thames to watch the sunset. The only thing she would nag about was her sudden need for cotton candy, which he promised to get her some after he showed her all the spots she wanted to see in London. "See, this is why you shouldn't've moved to America, Gem," Harry said after she gaped at the Elizabeth Tower from the view on the bridge. She quickly snapped pictures and ignored Harry.

"Cotton candy, bro. You promised," she said, looking up at her brother with a smile. 

"Noo, let's just stand here for a moment," he said, placing an arm around her shoulder. The sunset shot out colors of pink and purple across the sky, clouds a swirling art of pastel's that blended so beautifully together. It was too amazing of a sight to walk away from. 

Gemma sighed and let Harry have his way, both trying to block out the honking and bicycle bells behind them to enjoy the view. "California is so nice, you should visit," she said, still looking up at the sky. 

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "I should. And I'd tell you I'm coming, too. Not just pop up at your workplace without ringing ya."

She hit his shoulder. Harry gaped and held it, laughing while doing so. "Oh, shut up. Just be glad I'm here."

Harry only shook his head and crossed his arms, beginning to nudge her with his elbow. "Hey, I am. And I hate that you're leaving tonight. But, like, why did you come all this way?" He frowned and looked towards the dirty ground. "You never return my calls or texts anymore."

He heard Gemma release a sigh, but still couldn't look at her. "I've been busy. Life is hectic there, I barely have time to breathe. I like it hectic, I like being busy and doing what I love. I guess sometimes I get too carried away. And I've met someone. Have I told you that? I've met someone, his name is Josh and he's the sweetest. And filthy rich, Harry, it's ridiculous. He helped pay for me to come down here."

Harry looked up and furrowed his eyebrows, offended. "You've met someone and you didn't tell me?"

Gemma, looking him straight in the eyes, nodded. "I guess when I left England to get away from the past, that meant trying to leave you there as well. And . . . I know, okay? I know I shouldn't have done that. But when I think of you, I think of Mom. Jesus, you look like her, Harry. You're so kind and sweet like her. And when I think of Mom, I think of Dad, and it all comes back and it's too much to handle. I freaking love being away from all of those memories and making my own life somewhere else, with someone else."

Harry was crying now, chest aching because he'd missed so much in her life because she can't stand talking to him. He understands how much the memories can hurt, but he'd never shut her out because of it. That's what Gemma did to him and it hurts; she's all the family he's got, and she didn't even want to talk to him. 

She tried reaching out for him, but he moved away from her hands. "Then why come see me? You've got it all figured out, I see, so why come to the place you can't stand, to see the brother you can't stand?" Gemma wasn't crying. She never cried. Harry always remembered her as the strong one--the tough one. The only time he had seen her cry, was when she found out that their Mom had passed away. 

"Harry, please," she said, a slight hint of desperation in her voice. "That's not what I meant. It's just hard! Surely, you of all people, can understand that, right? When was the last time you've been home? And not here, H, really home."

Harry looked up at the sky, frowning and glaring at the sun behind a cloud that was setting lowly and hitting the water ahead of them. The faint brightness he glared at helped him hold back the tears. "I didn't stop trying to talk to you because of it. Believe it or not, you remind me of her too, Gem, but that wouldn't ever keep me from wanting to see you." Harry was crying again. He was embarrassed for publicly crying, so he lowered his head and placed his hands over his face. "And it sucks that you're so far away 'cause we used to be so close! Now it's like I've lost everyone. My entire family. It's killing me."

Gemma slipped her arms around Harry's waist and hugged him from behind. "I'm so sorry. But I came here, didn't I?"

Harry's hands lowered from his face. He didn't turn to hug her back, but just grasped her hands and pulled them away so that he could pull his phone out. The clock was blurry from his tears, so with a wipe to his eyes with his hand, he cleared his throat. "We should . . . um. Let's not do this. You're about to leave, so let's go get the cotton candy and stuff."

Harry, trying to forget what had just happened, decided to go on the rest of the evening without bringing the subject up again. He could tell when she wanted to talk, could see hesitance in her eyes when he would try to start up any other conversation that didn't involve having to talk about themselves. Harry wasn't dumb, he knew that it would be better to just lay it all out and talk through it while she was still there, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He's happy right now and doesn't need his sister bringing him down, not when everything in his life is starting to come together. After a few tense hours had passed, he had bid his sister good-bye with a hug and kiss on the cheek. He still loved her dearly and would never be cold when giving a good-bye, but his chest still ached. Gemma's only sign of worry was shown when her brows furrowed. He half-hoped she would sob and apologize and show how much she really cared for Harry with actions, but she didn't. She'd left and only turned back to wave. And maybe that's why Harry was crying as he got a cab home. Because he probably wouldn't hear or see from Gemma for a while and he's so hurt by what she'd done. And when he arrived home, he went straight into Liam's arms and sobbed and Niall patted his back and he just felt too overwhelmed.

\+ + +

The next day seemed to drag on for Harry. He had stayed up and explained what all happened the best he could, but God, he's not good at explaining things when he's not crying, so when he is, it's all just a mess of words and gasps of air. But still, his best friends understood somehow. Through the crying and gasps of air and jumble of words, they still understood. That alone helped Harry in an odd way; it comforted him knowing that his friends knew him so well that they could understand him when he's just a big mess.

"You should call her when you're able, H. Don't let what family you have left slip away," Liam had said. 

Niall had scoffed. "Bitch should be the one reaching out, not Harry."

Even though Harry had laughed, especially when Liam hit him, he felt something within him hurt. If she wouldn't reach out, what was the point? She couldn't stand talking to him, and although she came all the way to see him, he couldn't get past the fact that she shut him out. 

Maybe it wasn't his best idea to go into work after all that went down, but he found it comforting to be around his job and doing what he loved. He found himself staring even more at that building across the street, wanting it to be his so badly that he might cry. And when he wasn't staring, he was wondering why Louis hadn't texted him back or why he hadn't seen him all day. Louis was at work before Harry had showed up, but that was normal. Harry was just expecting Louis to come out and chat or to see him on his lunch break like he had been for weeks now, so when Louis didn't come out at all, it worried him. 

It was about time for him to head home, before the sun started to set, so he had gathered the money and closed up for the night. His hands slipped into the pockets of his coat, hesitantly lingering in front of Ink-Ink and debating whether or not he should step inside to check on Louis. He sighed, kicked at the ground, and then made his way inside. Zayn was behind the desk, eyes on his new iPhone as he laughed at some video that was playing. Harry glanced around and noticed that no one was here, right before it hit him that the tattoo shop was about to close. Louis always left a couple hours before it closed, so why was he still here?

"Hey," Harry quietly said, walking up to the desk and placing his arms on the wood. 

Zayn, startled, jerked his head up and nearly fell out of his chair. He balanced himself by putting his hands on the desk and planting his feet to the floor. "Christ," he breathed out, eyes roaming before he settled them on Harry. Zayn straightened up. "Harry, 'sup?" He nodded his head.

Harry cleared his throat and looked towards the hall, where Louis' private tattoo room was located, and then turned his head to look at Zayn. "Ah, nothing much. Uh, is Louis still...?"

Zayn nodded and made a face, eyes widening as he stood from his chair and walked around the desk to stand in front of Harry. "Are you wanting to see him?" Harry nodded. Zayn huffed and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, turning him around so that he was looking away from the hall. "I'm not so sure about that, Harry. He's having an . . . off day. He's not himself right now, so why don't you just check on him tomorrow?"

Harry frowned and glanced behind himself. "Wha...? Is he upset?" Harry looked to Zayn and pulled his hands away. "Let me check on him. Please. Wanna know what's going on, I need to see if he's okay. Please." He wasn't sure why he was begging, because he knew he could just turn around and march into Louis' room without Zayn's permission. But Zayn is close with Louis, and if he allows Harry to go and see him, then maybe he thinks he could help out in some way. And when Zayn nodded, he was out of there in no time. He found the door to the room Louis worked in and flung it open too forcefully.

Louis was sitting in his chair, a tattoo gun in his hand as he stroked the needle over his arm a few times. Louis wasn't startled when the door was thrown open, but instead just glanced up once. Harry didn't say anything, didn't know what to say; he should have thought it through. So he waited for Louis to do something, and after a dreadfully silent five minutes, Louis put the tattoo gun away. 

"What're you doing here?" Louis asked, standing up and wiping at the freshly tattooed skin and trying to wrap it up on his own. 

Harry gulped and stepped further into the room. "I—uh. Well. I wanted to know if you're feeling we—"

"Harry," Louis sighed, hints of annoyance in his tone. "I don't need you checking up on me if we don't hang out for just a day. Jesus, get a life. I'm fine."

Harry frowned and crossed his arms, taking a step back. Louis was focused on the new tattoo on his forearm, too focused to see the way Harry flinched away. That was unexpected. He hadn't heard Louis talk like that in a while. Maybe to other people, but not to Harry. It had made him feel special when they would hang out; Louis would sometimes snap at people, mainly the ones in the mall that nagged about a new cologne or hair product, and Harry would just tell him to calm down. Louis always would, and he would never snap at Harry. He frowned and felt his hands sweat up. "I just . . . Lou, are you sure you're fine?"

Louis grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, not paying attention to Harry until he started to walk over to the door. "Yeah. Now I'm headed out, mind stepping aside?"

His lips parted. Louis looked tired, now that Harry could see him up close. His hair was lying down against his head and he had this dull look in his eyes. His facial expression was unreadable, and it scared him. He was used to looking into Louis' eyes and seeing how he really felt, but now it felt like he was pulled away and unplugged, like the Louis inside got lost somehow. "Louis," Harry tried again, wanting the tired boy to look at him. He did with a quirked eyebrow. "I'm here if you wanna talk, bear. Always. Remember that, okay? Don't have to keep something to yourself all the time."

Louis looked away, and for a moment, Harry thought he got through to him. But then Louis nodded his head, motioned for Harry to step aside, so he did, deflated. He left without a word. Harry rubbed his palms over his face and felt like screaming and crying because now Louis was shutting him out too.


	23. ✿18✿

Harry was sick again. And it was bad. He had missed two days of work so far, and that only means it had been three days since he'd last spoken to Louis. To make things worse, Harry had caved in yesterday and double-messaged Louis. But he left him on read. That only made him feel like Louis was ignoring him and he hated that. It made Harry feel like a problem. A nuisance. A thing that needed to be avoided. And all he can think about is that moment when he was at Louis' house and opening up to him about his Mom. Louis was so kind and gentle towards Harry that night, what had happened? And the night he rushed over to the restaurant Harry was eating at because the voicemail reached its limit. And the aquarium. Louis almost kissed him. . . . 

Harry knew he was over-thinking but he couldn't stop. Surely, he did something wrong. Maybe he hurt Louis in some way and didn't realize it. He felt horrible mentally and physically. When something like this happens, he instantly feels like gum underneath someone's shoe. He thought he was stronger than this. He thought he was doing so good, but it turns out, three days without hearing from Louis was enough to tear him apart. Harry knows it wasn't a thing he could stop, becoming attached to Louis, but maybe he could have used these emotionally stable months to improve himself. To prepare himself for the drop. For months he'd been chasing Louis, trying to get him to at least like him as a friend. He had for a month. Only a month. Now it feels like Louis really isn't supposed to be for him. Has it always been this hard to get the one you like to like you back?

In his sprawled out position on the bed, he buried his head in the crack between both of his pillows on the bed and moaned out sadly. He'd already drenched the pillow with his tears, and now there was snot on it. 

"No," he muttered when he heard his door creak open. "Leave me here to die, please."

"I made you some soup, Harry," Liam said. 

That made Harry, with closed eyes, lift his head just inches above the pillows. "Karen's recipe?"

"Duh. I know how much you hate the canned chicken noodle soup. Better eat it while it's hot, too."

Slowly, Harry flopped onto his back with a groan. His throat ached and his head hurt and his nose was raw from all the constant blowing. "Why aren't you in class?" Digging his palms into the mattress, he pushed himself in a sitting position and rested his back against the wall. Liam handed Harry the soup.

"I have to get back soon, I just came here for lunch to make you this," he said, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a bottled water and then tossed it on the bed beside Harry. "You better keep yourself hydrated. And my Mom mentioned for you to sit up like you are now for better circulation. I don't know how she put it, but if you're having trouble breathing, it's better to just sit up."

Harry nodded and told Liam to thank Karen for him. She's always been so sweet to Harry, and after his mother died, Karen made it clear to Harry that she'd be there for him for anything. After Liam left, Harry started in on the soup, even though he couldn't taste it. He could feel the burn on his tongue when he devoured too much of it, though. When he was nearly done with it, he felt his stomach lurch into his throat. He knew what was coming, so as fast as he could, he sat the soup down on the bed (it wound up falling over and spilling on his covers) and hurried out of the room and to the bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before he dumped out the contents of everything he'd eaten in the past twenty-four hours. Even when he puked up everything he could, he was on his knees dry-heaving that hurt his stomach in an awful way. Harry hated being sick like this, hated throwing up, and that just caused him to cry because he felt so helpless. Reaching for a towel on the rack, he clung to it to clean his face. He hoped he was done with that for the day. He'd brushed his teeth and rubbed his sore knees before collapsing on the couch in the living room, drenched in his own sweat. 

\+ + +

Harry didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he felt a presence at his side. He groaned, expecting it to be Niall or Liam. Someone was rubbing their hand up and down his hip softly, and what had him fluttering his eyes open was when he felt a hand on his forehead. The hand was cold and felt so nice against his hot forehead; he even nuzzled closer to it. Tiredly, Harry stared at the man sitting on the couch, humming happily when he spotted those blue eyes that could only belong to Louis. 

"Thought you forgot about me," Harry mumbled, shutting his eyes and enjoying the way Louis' hand was brushing through his hair. 

"I could never forget about you," said Louis as he dipped his head down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Slowly, he trailed his lips over Harry's cheek to ghost over his ear, giving the shell a few bumps with his mouth teasingly. "You should wake up now, baby boy," he whispered in a way that sent shivers down Harry's spine. "Someone's coming."

Harry jumped up. Frantically, he looked around with wide eyes, trying to find Louis. Because he's here, he has to be. But he wasn't. Louis wasn't there because it was a lousy dream. A lousy dream that felt so real . . . His left hand trailed up to his ear, feeling around it and remembering what it felt like to have Louis so close like that, whispering in his ear so softly and lowly. Putting his hand down quickly, he frowned, his heart thumping loudly in his chest like it was trying to beat its way out. Maybe it would. Maybe it's trying to go somewhere. It's like Harry isn't in control of his heart and who it wants to belong to. His heart doesn't even want him anymore.

Gasping when a buzzing noise sounded from the door, he tried to stand and see who it was. He pushed away the dream and tried to forget, even though when he'll go to bed to sleep that night, it would be all he'll think about. . . . 

"Hello?" He said once he made it to the door with a push of a button.

"Hey! It's Ed, man. Liam told me you were sick, so I came with gifts."

Harry smiled. "But I don't look good," he pouted. 

"I don't care. Let me in, I have a basket filled with your favorite things . . . Like Goldfish."

Harry's eyes went wide. "The door's open," he rushed out, letting him in the building.

He rushed over to the bathroom to try and get himself looking decent. But God, he did not. He's terribly pale with dark circles under his eyes because of lack of sleep. He's used to breathing through his nose when he sleeps, so when he couldn't, he may have cried when it was three a.m. and he couldn't breathe, which resulted in him being unable to sleep. His hair was a knotted mess, so he decided to just throw it up in a bun and tie it back with a ponytail. Then he heard the door open. Harry tried to rush out to greet Ed, but that only made him dizzy and lightheaded. 

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ed asked once he'd seen Harry leaning against the wall. "Jesus, c'mon, take a seat." 

Harry frowned when Ed guided him over to the couch. He felt like a child. But then he realized that he didn't care if Ed babied him right now. Harry won't admit that he's craving affection at the moment, and if this is his way to get it, he'll go for it. So he pouted and slouched against him until he was sitting on the sofa, frowning and looking up at Ed with big eyes once he started to push him into a lying position. 

"I'm sick," Harry sniffled.

Ed sat on the open space on the couch next to Harry. "I know, bud. You look like you're running a fever," he said, extending his hand out to feel Harry's forehead. His hand was warm. Quickly it was pulled back. Ed had reached down to pick up the basket of goodies he had bought for Harry and sat it in his lap. "I bought medicine, too. But I'm sure you already have some of that, right?"

Harry hadn't realized he'd stuck his thumb in his mouth. He shrugged at Ed's question and kept his eyes closed.

"Oh, don't suck on your thumb. You're not a baby," he joked, pulling out a stuffed animal and holding it up.

Harry opened his eyes to glare at Ed, but when he saw the cute bear, he widened his eyes and let his thumb fall out of his mouth to reach for the furry friend. "Gimme!" He shouted, trying to grab it. Ed would only raise it higher out of Harry's grasp. "Mine," he muttered with determination. "Don't make me sneeze on you." That had Ed laughing as he tossed the bear towards Harry. Harry quickly pulled the bear to his chest and suffocated the stuffing out of it. "I'm naming her Daffy because her shirt reminds me of daffodils, and I love daffodils. They're so pretty."

"Daffy sounds cute," Ed said, looking down at Harry with a fond smile.

Harry giggled and stared back at Ed, expecting him to pull out even more stuff for Harry to freak out over. And he certainly did when he pulled out chocolates. Harry gasped and instantly snatched it, pressing it firmly against his chest with his bear. "Chocolate, oh my God," he whispered to himself.

"Wait, there's more."

Harry inhaled quickly. "Really?"

Ed nodded. "Really." And then he pulled out not only a package of Goldfish, but some of Harry's favorite Disney movies.

Harry choked. He wasn't expecting this, not at all. He loved stuffed animals and chocolates and Disney movies, and to have it all at once is just Christmas. Maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all, he thinks, because if he gets gifts like this, then it's worth a sick stomach and runny nose. "Ed!" He shouted happily, sitting up to pull Ed into a hug, not caring if it squished Daffy and his chocolates. "You're just the best, Edward."

"Sh, it's not a problem." He pulled away from the hug and patted Harry's shoulder. "How about we watch . . . " Ed's voice trailed off as he picked up the movies. "The Aristocats?" 

Harry clapped and grinned, eyes squinting and dimples showing. "Yes! I haven't watched that in ages, oh my gosh."

Ed smiled and stood, heading over to the DVD player and sticking the movie in. Moments later he was next to Harry again, but Harry had straightened up on the couch to make room for Ed. And it was calming just sitting and watching a Disney movie with someone that didn't care about sneezing loudly or coughing or sniffling. Ed had even gotten up during the movie to get Harry some medicine. It was just a dream, and even though he wished he could've been well enough to enjoy it even more, he's glad he has a friend like Ed. Someone who is there for him and takes care of him. But something began to bother him while thinking this, because when did Louis do that? Sure, Louis had comforted him and showed in his own way that he may care for Harry, but where is he now? Was Louis really worth the pain?

Harry sighed. It was all stupid, honestly. He cared for Louis in a way he hadn't cared for anyone before, and he knew he couldn't just stop trying. He knows Louis can be distant and rude, but what utterly sucks is the way he treats Harry. One minute he's leading him on, and another he's telling him to go away, practically. Harry knew Louis wasn't the best for him right now, but he couldn't help the craving he felt for him in the pit of his stomach. He craved Louis' touch, Louis' attention . . . Louis' lips. Maybe he was just being completely naive; Harry believes that Louis has a kind soul, even if others refuse to believe it. Harry's heart ached and his head hurt from all this confusion and the fact that all this distance made him realize how much he cared for Louis. He knew he was falling too fast, but then again, how can someone put a pause on feelings? People develop strong feelings for other people at their own pace, and no matter what Liam says, Harry knows it isn't a bad thing. No one should feel ashamed of falling for someone, so he wasn't going to start to now.


	24. ❁19❁

warning: adult content

Ed had left Harry before Niall and Liam returned home. Then it was their turn to take care of Harry, and Harry will admit, they did a pretty good job. He normally wouldn't let them because it made him feel like a child (and he didn't like that), but he found it comforting in an odd way. He liked not being alone and having someone take care of him, so the rest of the night went by nice. It took another day for him to be able to breathe through his nose. Harry hates doctors, so he refused to visit one when Liam suggested it. Liam knew why, too, so he didn't dare push it. Harry honestly didn't know what he came down with, and he was happy he could eat something without feeling nauseous at least. Sadly though, he had to skip out from work for an entire week. Didn't see or text Louis for an entire week. But his amazing friends were there for him, willing to do whatever he asked, no matter the task. They helped him stop constantly thinking about Louis, and that was just the biggest relief. Now he feels . . . all right. He could be better. He's still got a cough that he'd like to get rid of.

But there was something else. He's been cooped up in the apartment for far too long. And he missed Louis. Harry hates that he's so clingy like this, when they're not even dating. It's just who he is; he gets attached and can't prevent it. Harry feels drained and needs something, needs someone. 

"I'll be back!" Harry shouted from the door, awaiting a response. He told Niall he was going to visit his grandmother.

"All right, dude, be safe," Niall calmly replied from the couch.

Harry smiled and shut the door behind him, taking a deep breath as he made his way towards the elevator. He honestly made sure to leave before Liam got back from his job. Niall is just so laid back and chilled out, so it's easy to sneak away without much questioning. But Liam is a different story. He's very protective and likes to know where he can reach Harry if something happens. Which isn't that bad, but it can be suffocating. He loves Liam to death, but he can really be overbearingly worrisome. 

He didn't bother with a cab. Harry liked walking and liked that he could clear his head. Not so much that he would have second thoughts about where he's going. He just thought he deserved this, is all. He deserved to have fun like people his age does. It didn't take long before he was there, and that's when he felt hesitant about this. The neon sign twinkled each letter, before flashing the entire word. Pink Flamingo. 

Harry could turn around and just head back home, it would be that easy. But then he watched as someone approached the black doors. Two men, one with scruff and one clean-shaven. Both with dark hair. They were attractive, undeniably pretty boys. He knows that this is okay. People do it all the time, so he shouldn't be afraid. Maybe just one drink and that's it. So he pushed himself towards the dark building with the bright sign and went straight for the door.

"Whoa, hey, hang on there."

Harry jumped back when a large man slipped his arm out in front of him, blocking him from the door. "I—" Harry started with a step back, frightened. He hadn't noticed him before. But then he spotted a wooden stool chair near the door. The man must've been there.

"You're good, kid," he spoke, voice deep. He was bald and had tattoos peaking out above his ears. "You look scared. Don't be scared, just need to see your ID."

Harry frowned. "I don't look old enough?" He asked while slipping a hand into his back pocket.

The muscular man stared at Harry with narrowed eyes. "Well . . . Now that I'm lookin' right at you, I'd say you're about nineteen." Harry held up his ID. "I mean, twenty-two. Yeah. Okay, head in. Have fun, Harry!"

Harry laughed and nodded, smiling at the man who must've read his name off the card. He walked inside and immediately frowned, though. It was dark. His hands stuck out in front of him, trying to feel for a knob that led anywhere with a light. The music was loud, so loud he couldn't even think. It was what he wanted, to not be able to think, but now he didn't feel too good about it. 

"God, ugh," he groaned, tripping forward and falling through a black velvet curtain. Instantly, he was surrounded by bodies. Bodies everywhere, clinging to one another or just dancing by themselves. The music was loud and felt like each time the bass dropped, it rattled Harry's rib cage. He cleared his throat suddenly and made his way to the bar on the other side of the room, having to bump into a few strangers' shoulders to get them out of the way. 

Harry had only been to a club a couple times before, when he was younger. The first time wasn't so nice. He has some confidence now, but younger Harry barely had any. His clumsy, awkward self didn't do well with a lot of sexual people. And that's all he seemed to run into at clubs—a lot of sexual people. He didn't know what else to expect, but he didn't think that many guys were so dirty.

Once he reached the bar, he had to sit between a girl with purple hair, and two boys with their hands in each other's hair. He felt uncomfortable. The bartender looked busy, dashing around and making drinks. Harry wondered why there were only three people bar tending at such a big club like this. Harry finally held his hand up. "Sir?" He said, but frowned when the guy walked right past him. 

"That isn't how you do it," someone beside Harry spoke.

Harry turned his head, expecting the girl with the purple hair, but widened his eyes when it wasn't her. Instead it was a man with light hair and dark eyes, skin tan and firm looking. He was wearing a navy blue button-up shirt with black jeans, and really, Harry wasn't going to deny his beauty. The short sleeves of his shirt really brought out his muscular arms—and his jawline should win an award. After staring for a good while that should be considered illegal, Harry spoke. "Do what?"

The guy smirked, confidence boosting from the long stare Harry had given him. "Watch and learn, pretty boy." Harry flushed, watching the man. He didn't do anything at first, but then he abruptly stood and leaned over the counter. "Hey!" he shouted, then put his index finger and thumb in his mouth, whistling loudly. A girl went straight to him. "Hi. My friend and I want a . . ." He tilted his head to look at Harry.

Harry froze. He wasn't too familiar with drinks because he doesn't drink. "Pink lemonade?"

"Pink lemo—wait, no," the guy laughed, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I just want some bourbon. On the rocks. And this one—" He stared at Harry again, with a grin, then winked. "Get this one a Hurricane."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and placed his hands in his lap. "A what?" The girl scurried off to prepare the drinks. "And what's your name?" He asked, trying to speak loudly, but then not too loud. He didn't want to be annoying with his loud voice.

"My name is Marcus, what's yours?" He shouted back.

"Harry!"

"You're what?"

"Harry!"

"You're not that hairy, pal!"

"No, no! I'm Harry." Marcus looked confused and leaned closer. "Harry!" He shouted again. Marcus stuck his hand behind his ear. "I'm HARRY!" 

Marcus suddenly snorted, tapping his fingers against Harry's knee. "I heard you the first time."

Harry looked at the fingers on his knee and cleared his throat, looking back to Marcus with a tight smile. He had a Welsh accent, and that honestly made the guy even more charming. It wasn't long before the drinks arrived, and Harry was handed a pink looking drink in a large glass with a loopy straw. He giggled at the cuteness of it and raised it to his mouth, sucking up the drink from the straw. His eyes widened at the taste, slightly bouncing in his seat out of happiness. It's incredibly sweet and fruity, he loved it. He'd never had such a drink. Every other alcoholic drink he's had, was either painfully strong or too sour. This drink is amazing. He continued to drink it, consumed by the flavors, before he looked up to see Marcus staring at Harry with a smile. Harry blushed, forgetting the hand that was on his knee until he felt his thumb rub into the fabric of his jeans. "Oh," he quietly spoke, removing his mouth from the straw. "That's good."

"Mm, knew you'd like it." He raised his drink to his mouth and took a sip. "You're really cute, Harry. Got such pretty hair and eyes—and that mouth. . . . You've got such nice lips."

Harry blinked and shyly smiled, lifting his glass to cover his mouth. He felt good. He liked getting compliments, especially from pretty men. "Thank you, Marcus," he quietly said, lowering the glass to take more sips from it.

"Do you want another?"

Harry furrowed his brows, still slurping the delicious drink until nothing shot up the straw anymore. He looked down, eyes beginning to widen once he realized he consumed it all. "Oh my goshness, I drank it all!" he shouted, raising it up in the air. Then Harry turned to Marcus, who still had his drink in his hand. "I can have another?"

"Of course, babe." He shouted until he got someone's attention from behind the counter, and ordered Harry's drink. "There we are," Marcus spoke after the drink was made and placed in front of Harry.

Harry picked it up off the napkin it was placed on and immediately started drinking it. He hummed, swaying in the seat happily as he slurped the drink loudly through the straw. He felt eyes on him again, but he didn't really care. A nice man was buying him free drinks—yummy drinks—and he was enjoying attention from him. 

\+ + +

He didn't remember what had happened. One moment he was downing his fruity drink, and another people were chanting for him to down some shots. So many people had been watching him and giving him pats on the back after he had downed those shots and other drinks, he felt amazing. Now he can barely focus on anything. Marcus was still by his side though, hands on his waist as they swayed on the dance floor. Harry knew he wasn't good at dancing, but he didn't care. And it felt amazing not to care. Marcus didn't care either, he was just holding Harry close to him and roaming his hands all over Harry's body.

"Hey," Marcus said, voice loud and firm. "We should get out of here."

Harry giggled, hands making their way to the nape of Marcus' hair. "Silly! Where would we go?" 

Hands made their way to Harry's lower back, and soon they were gripping his butt through his jeans. How many drinks had Marcus had? Harry had only seen him with one. "My place, of course."

Harry hummed, his hands moving towards Marcus' cheeks to squeeze them. "I can't hear!" Marcus huffed and put a hand on Harry's wrist, leaning closer to Harry's ear to talk to him, but Harry thought he was leaning in for a kiss. So he gave him one, right on the mouth. It was sloppy and quick, but it was enough for Harry to melt and slouch completely against Marcus. His arms were still tightly around Marcus' neck, but with him slouched, his chin was rested against his chest. "Want another," Harry said, lips pouting out. "Please, Louis, want another." Suddenly, the strong arms around Harry were gone. He hit the floor. 

"Who the hell is Louis? God, you're a child. I want to screw someone, not take care of them."

Harry frowned, the loud music making him dizzy. He looked up, expecting to see Marcus, but he didn't. He was gone. Harry didn't know how he felt. But he stood and swayed for a moment, confused, wanting someone. Wanting Louis. Louis. His pretty face; those pretty eyes; that fluffy hair. LouisLouisLouis. Harry doesn't remember what he had to drink, but whatever it was, has made him desperate for Louis' touch. Anything from Louis. He was crying, now, and shoving people out of the way so he could get out. He wanted Louis. 

He was out of the club, stumbling about and trying to get used to how quiet it was outside compared to being inside. It was cold, too, but he felt like he could breathe. Harry looked up, trying to figure out where he was. He thinks he knows where he's going when he heads down the street. It looks familiar enough. His hand was out, feeling of a brick building beside him to help keep steady. The ground looked like it was moving and spinning out underneath him. He didn't know what looked familiar anymore, but he knew he'd been walking longer than he thought he did. He groaned and looked up, moving to a light pole to grasp and lean on. And then he was hunching over and vomiting. And crying. Once he was done, he stood up and walked away as quickly as he could, embarrassed and sad. 

The building. There it was. He was beyond happy to recognize the building, and tried to run as quickly as he could to the door. A lady was heading out right when Harry reached it, so he didn't have to bother with his keys. He may be drunk out of his mind, but he knows he won't be doing this again. He still felt dizzy; he needed to sit down. But he didn't, no. He just wanted to go up into his bedroom and sleep and cuddle his pillows. So he found the closest thing to him (the stairs) and started to walk up. With difficulty, he made it to his floor and dizzily walked to the door. 

"Hey!" He shouted, banging on the door, but then covered his mouth when he realized how loud he was. He started laughing. "Shh, Harry, shh." So, to be quieter, he reached into his pocket to find his key. Pulling it out, he held it up and stared at the lock, eyes widening. Why were there two? "Wha— Hey! Who changed the locks?" Harry pounded on the door. "Liiiaaammmmm." In the middle of his pounding, the door opened. Harry held onto the door frame and gasped. "Louis?"

Louis, with sleepy eyes, squinted at Harry. "What the fuck? It's three in the morning, go home," he angrily said, starting to shut the door. 

Harry stepped forward and stopped the door from closing with his foot. "But . . . I am. Aren't I?"

Louis stared for a moment, eyeing Harry and opening the door wider. He stepped closer to Harry and sniffed. "Jesus. Have you been drinking? How much?"

"I don't know!" Harry shouted, reaching for Louis. "Louis," he quietly said, petting his hair. "Fluffy baby."

"Stop," he swatted Harry's hand away. "Ugh. You can't go home this drunk by yourself. Idiot. Get in here."

Louis walked away from the door and Harry happily made his way inside, unbuttoning his shirt. "It's dark," he whispered, soon laughing when a lamp was switched on after he said that. "I'm a god!" He forcefully ripped the rest of his shirt off, buttons flying around him. "Bow down, you. I am a god. I can create light."

Louis shook his head and ignored what Harry was saying, just motioning for him to follow him into a room. Harry did. He stuck his hands into the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up above his head, acting like it was a cape. Louis, still ignoring him, pulled down the bed sheets on his bed and patted the mattress. "Just lay down and go to sleep, I'm tired."

Harry nodded slowly and tip-toed to the bed, taking a seat on it. He blinked quickly and stared at his shoes, waving his finger at them. "Off," he commanded. He frowned when nothing happened, and looked to Louis for help.

Louis, who had fetched a garbage can, placed it beside the bed and gave Harry a look. Harry pouted. Louis sighed and got on the floor, untying the shoelaces and slipping off the shoes. "There. Now sleep," he firmly said as he stood up. 

Harry nodded. "Yes. Sleep. But first . . ." He inhaled and reached for the buttons on his jeans, trying to undo them. He did quickly. Soon they were on the floor near his shoes, and next was the shirt he had ripped. Now he was only in boxers. He looked up to Louis and laid back on the bed, head on the pillow. Louis was staring, frozen beside the bed. Harry sighed. "You never texted me back," he frowned, extending his arm out towards Louis. He finally caught ahold of his shirt and tugged. "Missed you. Fluffy ball. Missed my fluffy ball of sass."

Louis made a noise of protest. "Harry, I'm tired. You should sleep, stop talking." 

Harry frowned and yanked at Louis' shirt until he finally stepped closer to the bed. His large eyes looked up to Louis, hand finding his. "Missed you," he whispered.

"You already said that."

Harry stared at Louis' hand and held it up. "Missed the way you held my hand. The way you touched my shoulder or patted my chest. Just missed you and your hands, Louis. I did. I like it when you touch me."

Louis had his lower lip between his teeth, intently listening to Harry and his slurred words.

"Can I tell you something?" Harry whispered.

Louis huffed. "I . . . fine. What?"

Harry scooted over and patted the bed. "Sit." Louis did. "Okay," Harry said, voice still quiet. "Sometimes I think of your hands somewhere else, too."

Louis was breathing loudly in the quiet room. "Where?"

Harry suddenly let his hand travel down with a pout and placed his hand over his tight-fitting black boxers. "Here." Harry was really drunk. He whined. "Haven't been touched in so long, Lou," Harry spoke, voice cracking. His eyes were welling up with tears. "Just wanna feel good. I never feel good. I haven't felt good. I've been sick and sad, Louis. Wanna feel good, please. Please."

"Harry," Louis choked, eyes glued to the boys body. "Stop, no. What do . . . what are you begging for?"

Harry's full on crying. He found Louis' hand and placed it over his hardening dick, trying to move up into the palm of his hand, but Louis pulled it away. "Please! Oh, please, Louis, please. Want it . . . want it so bad."

"Harry, you're drunk. I—I can't. You need to go to sleep," he said. He was still staring.

"I'm not! I'm sober, I am!" He shouted, desperate. Still crying. His hand moved its way over his boxers, trailing his fingers over his fully hardened cock. It made him shiver. "Want you to do it. I'll be good. I'm your kitten, remember? I'll be good."

Louis blinked quickly, watching Harry just graze his fingers over himself. "Fuck," he muttered, slouching. "You are good," he said, voice steady. "Such a good boy."

"Don't good boys deserve this?" Harry asked, fully gripping himself. It made him moan. He stuck his index finger in his mouth and started to suck on it, not wanting another noise to slip out.

"Shit, yeah. Yeah, they do," Louis said, caving in completely and letting his hand move towards Harry's boxers. He was long, he could tell. His fingers moved to wrap around Harry through the fabric, and once they did, Harry released a high-pitched noise. Louis moved his hand down to the base and squeezed.

Harry inhaled and moaned. "Ohjesuschrist," he slurred out quickly. But then Louis stopped and his hand was gone. Harry, who had closed his eyes, opened them and stared at Louis. "No! More!"

"God, Harry, no! I can't, you're drunk. I can't do that . . . I can't. You—you do it, yeah? Can't you do it yourself?"

Harry was crying again. "Don't want to! I don't wanna touch."

Louis sighed and moved his hand to Harry's face, wiping away his tears. "Okay, don't have to. How about you flip onto your stomach, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Harry nodded, eager to be good. So he flipped onto his stomach and wiped at his nose, arms resting on the pillow. He turned his head to Louis. "Now what?"

"Can you just . . . press down against the bed? Your hips, just—just move them down against the mattress, baby."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but listened. His lips formed into an "O" shape as he looked forward, dragging his hips down against the bed again.

It felt amazing. So he repeated it over and over, not even caring about the noises that were escaping his mouth. "Ngh, Louis, need more," he spoke, not knowing what else he needed. It did feel amazing, every drag of his hips felt great with his cock pressed against the bed, but he felt like something was missing.

Louis pressed his hand to Harry's back and rubbed. "You're doing so well, kitten. Being such a good boy. That's what you wanted, right? To be a good boy?"

Harry was sloppy with his thrusting motions onto the bed now, feeling overwhelmed by how it felt and how Louis was speaking. "Yes, Louis."

"Say 'yes sir,'" Louis corrected.

Harry came. 

He didn't mean to. He wasn't expecting to so soon, but when Louis said that, he came in his boxers, shaking and crying out a low "sir." After that, he laid still completely on the bed, exhausted.

"Harry," Louis said, surprised. "Did you just..?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't feel embarrassed or ashamed, just sleepy and content. His face was buried into the pillow now, not caring that he was quite dirty in his boxers. He's just tired and worn out from all of that, and soon, he's out of it with soft snores and a shocked Louis left sitting on the bed.


	25. 19½

Louis was sitting on his couch with a coffee in his hand, waiting for the dreadful moment Harry would wake up. He considered leaving and writing a note that said he expected Harry to be gone while he was away, but he couldn't. Harry's too sweet for that, and as drunk as he was, Louis knew Harry wouldn't remember anything, most likely. He doesn't know how Harry's going to react. 

And Louis really hates that he enjoyed last night. He's never seen someone so desperate for just him. It made him feel so wanted and powerful and in control. That's what he never felt with Matt. Everything is so different with Harry. Louis is happy when he's around him, and Harry is just the same when they're together. It's weird. He didn't know that could happen, really. Being with a boy for two years that degraded everything about you tends to leave a person stripped of all confidence of being in a happy relationship again. Not that they are dating . . . 

Now he feels bad for dropping Harry without a warning. Harry didn't deserve that. Louis only avoided Harry for about a week, but Harry has such a fragile heart. And that's the thing. Louis knows that, yet he still did it. He's cruel.

He heard footsteps coming from the room and immediately put his coffee mug down on the table in front of him. He rested his elbows on his thighs and laced his fingers together, waiting. Listening. In just a few minutes, Harry was out of the room and slowly making his way into the living room. He had a confused look on his face and wore the jeans he was so quick to get out of last night. "I . . . Um. Bathroom. Gotta tinkle."

Louis nodded and pointed to the door right beside Harry. "Right there."

Moments later, Harry returned from the bathroom and cautiously made his way into the living room shirtless. He spotted the bottled water, medicine, and toast on the coffee table and had asked if it was for him, and when Louis nodded, he practically dove for the medicine and water. It was quiet after he took that, silently sitting on the other end of the couch. Louis was trying hard not to ogle. "What exactly . . . happened? I mean, I think I remember coming here. Kinda. And Louis," he paused, looking down at his jeans. His cheeks were a scarlet color. "My—my, um." He shifted in his seat. "Ye—yeah, just tell me what happened."

Louis inhaled deeply, reaching for his coffee and gulping a lot of it down before turning to Harry. "You were really drunk, Harry," Louis started off, hoping Harry'd look at him. He didn't. "You came here thinking it was your apartment. And you were so out of it, I couldn't let you go home like that. So I brought you into my room—after you ripped your shirt. You said you were a god and tore it open like Superman for some reason, I dunno. And then you took off your jeans and stuff. You laid down . . . and—"

"Went to sleep?" Harry asked, hopeful. He knew.

Louis sighs, scooting closer to try and comfort Harry, but he retreated away from him. Ouch. So he moved back into his previous position and looked down. "Not exactly. But you can't blame yourself, Harry, I mean . . . You were so drunk. And you begged, kept on begging and crying. Even grabbed my hand and placed it over your . . ." Harry let out a loud sob. Louis stared, hesitant about moving closer, but he did it anyway and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "It's okay."

"No it's not! God, I'm so mortified. This is horrible. I can't—I can't believe this," Harry said, face in his hands.

Louis bit his bottom lip, huffing. "I didn't touch you. I mean, okay . . . maybe a little, okay? I'm sorry, I really am. But I stopped and you did the rest. You didn't take your underwear off, I didn't see anything. It's really okay, Harry. We all have urges, don't be ashamed."

Harry was still crying, but he put his hands in his lap. "I can't help it. I'm so embarrassed, oh my God. I'm sorry I did that to you."

Louis ran his fingers through Harry's hair. "Don't be. It's really okay, I promise."

Harry nodded, wiping away his tears. "I just know I tend to get a little . . . strange with another man in—in situations like that a—and it's weird, how I am. I'm weird, I know. I'm sorry. I need a shower. I need to leave, sorry." Harry abruptly stood.

"Harry," Louis said, standing with him. "You can take a shower here. I can lend you some clothes, too, yeah? And stop apologizing. You're not weird or strange."

Harry awkwardly stood in front of Louis, keeping his eyes on the floor and hands at his side. He nodded soon and gave Louis a tiny glance, before looking back down. Louis just cleared his throat and started to head over to the bathroom. He opened the door and stepped inside, ducking under the sink to get a towel out. Louis placed that on top of the toilet seat and then left to get Harry some clothes. He knew he had something of Matt's in there that Harry could wear, something that Louis held on to and couldn't really let go of. Now he just doesn't care anymore. He doesn't know what to feel about Harry or Matt—he just doesn't. It was just a Polo gray sweater that felt nice to the touch, extra warm and big. He wore it a lot after that breakup, sometimes would leave it on for what seemed like weeks without showering. He grabbed it and paired it with sweatpants, something nice and comfy, found a pair of boxers, and then went back into the bathroom where he found Harry.

Harry looked void of all emotion, hand stuck under the water flowing out from the water head that he must have turned on. Louis made sure to be careful as he put the clothes down on top of the sinks counter. Harry looked so out of it, it made him worried. "Harry, got your clothes," Louis said, taking a step closer to the boy. Harry was staring at the water; he didn't hear. Louis touched his shoulder, and suddenly, Harry's head jerked toward Louis, frightened, but then he blinked and cleared his throat and nodded.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking over at the clothes Louis brought him. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."

Louis licked his lips. "Um, no problem. Everything okay? Need anything else?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Louis blew out a breath of air and left, shutting the door behind him. 

\+ + +

Louis was feeling a bit obsessive now. He tried to not count how many minutes Harry had been in the shower, but it was nearing forty-five minutes. Of course, he had the distraction of Bob's Burgers, but even that couldn't keep him from wondering when Harry would be out. Sometimes he'd itch to just get up and knock on the door, ask if everything was okay, but he didn't think that anything wrong would happen. It's only a shower.

Only five minutes later he heard a loud clang of metal, followed by a deep thud that was enough to get him out of his seat and towards the door. 

"Harry!" Louis loudly said, knocking against the door. "All right in there?" 

No response.

"Harry, c'mon. Don't worry me like this, answer my question." Louis shifted, pressed his left ear to the wall, and held his breath as he tried to hear what happened. Harry wasn't responsive, and after a noise like that, it makes a good excuse for what he's about to do. Preparing to shoulder the door down, he decided to give the knob a twist in case Harry hadn't locked it. And Louis was happy that the knob twisted all the way and he was able to open the door, but the feeling soon flooded out of his system as he spotted Harry. 

He was lying in the tub, the shower head spilling water over his chest. The curtains had been pulled completely, which conveniently covered Harry from his hips to his shins. He was soaked and staring ahead, not noticing the intrusion. 

"Harry," Louis gasped out, mind racing. He moved over to him quickly, dropping to his knees beside the tub and switching the water off. "Oh, God," he quietly said once he spotted a cut right above his eye. "What happened?" Louis asked, cradling Harry's cheek with his left hand as the other went to the blood coming from his eyebrow. 

Harry was staring at Louis, frowning, and then winced when his thumb rubbed over the injury. "I—I don't remember. Think I blacked out, I don't know. I never know anything." 

Louis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, forcing Harry's face toward his own. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

Harry stared boldly into Louis' eyes, but only maintained eye contact for as long as he could in this state before looking at the shower curtain over his body. "No."

Louis wasn't expecting that. Which made him feel bad, because didn't that only mean he was used to Harry wanting to talk to him? He tried so hard to get Louis' attention all the time, and he knew that—he just took advantage of such a kind heart and expected Harry to always want to talk. Harry put so much effort into Louis all the time, and now he seemed to be pushing him away. Everything seems so flipped now. 

"Why not?" Louis finally asked, placing his hands on the side of the tub.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Harry, that's not a good enough reason."

"Because you don't care anyway."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to! I know."

"You don't know anything."

"I know I don't."

"Oh . . . Harry, that's not what I meant."

"Guess you didn't mean to ignore me either?"

"I—"

"I can't talk to you because you don't like me. You don't . . . you've made it clear, okay? This week, the way you distanced yourself. It was clear that you only want to be friends. Okay. I get it. But I don't get why you had to make your point that way. And—and I don't get why people always have to ignore me or make fun of me. Especially when it's qualities about myself that I can't help. I know I'm not normal. I know I'm a lot to handle. But I'm just sick of this! I'm sick of people leaving, people I care about. And I care for you, Louis! Take that whichever way you want, but I do care for you and it just hurts. I got too attached too quickly and I embarrassed myself beyond belief by doing what I did last night, and—and I'm gonna stop. I'm gonna stop this. I'm gonna grow up and be a man. I'm a man. I don't need this, I don't people taking care of me. I'm a man, I don't need my sister and she obviously doesn't need me. I don't need anyone but myself."

Louis' jaw was hung open, shocked to hear so much from Harry without him being too shy or crying. He stood his ground and got all the way through, but now Louis feels desperate. Desperate for Harry to want him. Would that mean he would stop chasing Louis? Louis liked the chase, liked yanking Harry around to see how far he'd go. And that's horrible, he doesn't need anyone to tell him that. "I'm sorry," is all he can say

"Saying 'I'm sorry' at this point is like putting a band-aid on a gun shot wound." 

Louis didn't know what to say or do, just kept his hands on Harry's head. Something within Louis switched on in a way he couldn't explain. He hadn't been a good friend to Harry, that's for sure. Harry always put so much into Louis and he never reciprocated. He can understand how that would feel. "Let's get you out of the tub, Harry, okay? I'll drive you home, buddy." As Louis stood and reached for Harry's hands, he frowned once Harry took it upon himself to get out of the shower. He clung to the curtains, so Louis turned to give Harry the towel.

"I can do the rest," Harry quietly said.

Louis nodded and took that as a sign to leave. So he did. 

And Louis really didn't know what this new feeling inside him was. Knowing that Harry had given up on him made him yearn for his attention, made him want to hold his soft hand and play with his hair, and Jesus, maybe even do what they were doing last night, but sober. His mind is racing, he doesn't know if he wants a relationship with Harry, or nothing more than a nice friendship. What he does know is that he wants him, wants him in any way he can have him. But it's clear in the way Harry had walked out of that bathroom, avoided Louis, denied the ride from him, and left without saying good-bye, that he didn't want him back.


	26. ✿20✿

Harry never spoke of what happened at Louis' to anyone. He was only hoping he could shove it down and bury it in a place he could never reach. It's not like he remembered much from that night, but he hated waking up in messy boxers and nothing else. What he hated even more was that Louis only said he was sorry after he opened up to him. Harry wanted something deep from Louis, something so wonderful that it showed how much he cared. But all he said was something that really had no meaning behind it. He needs more than those two words. And maybe he's asking for too much, but he can't help it. He needs a lot. He needs to know if someone cares for him, and he needs to be told repeatedly or he'll think otherwise. Has Louis ever told Harry he cared? He can't seem to remember. 

That's why Harry's pulling himself away. He doesn't need to be hurt over and over, and if Louis' going to lead him on, and then drop him, then he just can't do it. He can't. It's better to stop before it gets too out of hand. He needs to be dependent on himself. That's how men are. Men only depend on themselves and don't need anyone else. 

Work was easier than Harry thought it would be. Every time he would see Louis, he would avoid him, and quickly, Louis took the hint that Harry didn't want to talk to him. It was routine, now; show up to work after Louis got in, leave before he got out. He'd sale his flowers and then go. It's not what Harry wanted, not at all, but he has to do this for himself. He can't be weak.

It only took a few days before Liam and Niall had realized something was up. They still believed that he was at his grandmother's that night, so they really had no reason to question him. And the thing is, Harry just doesn't care. He doesn't care if they're worried about him; he doesn't care that he's acting like a robot; he doesn't care that he's pushed so much emotion away that he can't feel anything at all. 

That's the thing about pining after someone who isn't good for you. It always ends horribly, and Harry should've seen it coming. He just ignored it because he thought Louis was good, deep down. He can't even see the good in people anymore, so what's the point?

"Harry."

Harry jumped, blinked, and looked around. Right, he thought, I'm not home. He picked up a fry and ate it, glancing toward Ed, before looking back down again. 

Ed had taken Harry to Ham's Burgers (ironic name) when they went out. Harry could never get sick of their delicious burgers and salty french fries. 

"What's up, man?" Ed asked, looking concerned. 

Harry frowned. Oh great, another person that thinks I need to be taken care of. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "Right, so that's why you're so lively and happy. Jesus, Harry! You're talking my ear off. Seriously, stop talking so much and being so perky, it's annoying."

Harry looked at Ed and huffed, not finding what he said funny. "Ha-ha."

"Hey," he said, tone much more serious. "For real, though. What's wrong?"

Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed, and then crossed his arms. "Nothing! I can take care of myself."

Ed shut up after that. He looked surprised when Harry said that, but he just stood to leave. Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with keeping things to himself and not talking about it. That's what mature people do—handle problems alone. He's mature and grown, and this is how he's proving it. 

June 13th.

Harry stared at the pasta sauce in the pan, watching it overcome with heat until bubbles popped up. Soon enough, the entire thing was boiling, bubbles in the red sauce popping one after the other. Harry felt like he could relate to the boiling pasta sauce—taking in so much and just waiting to burst.

"Harry, you're gonna burn it," Liam said from behind him.

"Right, right," he muttered, turning the heat down and stirring.

June 16th.

Impatiently he tapped his foot, waiting for the young man to choose which flowers he wanted. It was a teenager, probably around the age of fifteen with a worrisome look on his face. He was constantly looking between Shasta daises and Freesia's. 

Harry's somewhat annoyed.

"These smell wonderful," the boy said, sniffing a purple freesia flower. But then he leaned toward the daisy. "But these are so bright and happy looking." He tapped his chin and furrowed his brows, dark eyes finding Harry's. "What do you think?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. More like someone. Louis was coming back from his lunch break, a leftover sandwich wrapped up in his hand. As he was approaching the door, his eyes soon found Harry's, and then he stopped walking altogether. Harry tried to look away, he really did. But he couldn't. He couldn't talk either. It felt like the world stopped spinning for a few moments, and what made it resume was the small and quick smile Louis had tugging at his lips before he disappeared into the building. Harry frowned and looked forward.

"I don't care."

June 20th.

Another restless night. Going to bed at three a.m. and waking up an hour later was starting to become a regular thing. Harry frowned and rubbed his eyes, flopping onto his stomach and releasing tears out of exhaustion. 

June 22nd. 

"Hello?" Harry questioned after answering his phone.

"Harry, right?" An unfamiliar voice said.

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. This guy is on Gemma's phone. "Uh, yeah," he replied after placing the phone near his ear again.

"I'm Josh, Gemma's boyfriend. I'm sorry I'm calling so late, it must be so early where you're at." Harry couldn't sleep anyway. "But I just needed to tell you something. About Gemma. She's—she . . . I don't understand," Josh choked up, "I was only messing about."

Harry frowned. "What did you do? Is she okay?"

"I was surprising her. I sneaked up behind her and put my hands over her eyes, and then she started flipping and going hysteric! I removed my hands and tried to get her to focus on me, try to tell her I was only trying to surprise her with a first edition book of one of her favorite movies—Breakfast at Tiffany's—but she was screaming and crying and begging for me to stay away. At one point, she said, 'dad, please, Harry's only in the other room,' and I couldn't—I didn't know what to do! She was hyperventilating and I called an ambulance, but by the time they got here, she was passed out . . . God, she fainted because of me." Josh sniffled and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, I just don't understand what happened. The doctors said she would be okay, but that she was terribly traumatized. Harry, I'm begging you to tell me what happened with your parents. She won't talk to me about them. I know I shouldn't pry, but I need to know so that I can help her."

Harry frowned and clutched his knees tightly against his chest, breathing softly in his quiet, dark room. "Okay," he whispered, closing his eyes. "I was only eight. My father was . . . a bad man. I don't remember him ever being sober, not once. And I can recall my mother always trying to hide bruises my dad would inflict on her. He was terrible. Gemma would always comfort me and hide with me in my closet and sing to me, or tell me a story. I didn't understand what was going on. And I certainly never understood why he would take Gem into his room when Mom was at work . . . I—" Harry pulled the phone away and broke down into tears, but then tried to hold them back. He had to. "I would hear her crying all the time in there. I didn't know what to do. And I remember asking her about it one night, asked her why she would stay in there with him so much, and she said that it was the only way he would leave me alone," Harry said, trying to put these awful memories into words. He could hear Josh crying with him, even gagging once. 

"I heard her screaming from that room one day and called the police. They arrested him, she got sent to the hospital . . . Haven't seen him since. And then—and then years later Mom came down with cancer. She, uh. She passed away," Harry said, feeling awkward. It was weird telling this to a complete stranger. "Um, I probably shouldn't've told you any of this because Gemma would have in her own time, but . . . take care of her. Please? She needs to be taken care of, no matter how stubborn she is. If you ever hurt her, I'll—"

"Harry, I love her. I just needed to understand, is all. Thank you. Thank you for telling me. She . . . she misses you. When she came back from her trip, you were all she talked about. You should come down sometime. And, look, I'm so sorry you and Gemma went through something like that." He paused. Harry wondered if the call dropped, but then he heard Josh sniffle loudly and talk through obvious tears. "I can't imagine what she's been through, my sweet Gem."

June 24th

Harry was out shopping with Ed, and exactly four minutes into it, he knew he regretted it. The thought of curling up in bed and watching New Girl with a bag of potato chips sounded so appealing at the moment, but no, he had to shop with Ed. And it's not too bad, really, apart from the fact that he likes to wander about and ogle at ridiculous things.

"Look at it."

Harry squinted at the large candle in Ed's hands, staring at the red color, even leaning in to catch a sniff. Boy, did he regret that. "Oh, my God, that's awful," Harry said, stepping away and giving his nose a rub.

Ed looked more than happy. "It is the smell of morning breath! Amazing. I have to buy it. Screw that important stuff, like shoes. This is what I need in my life."

Harry huffed and checked the time on his phone. "Nasty. I'll be outside. And don't burn that thing in my house," he shouted, pointing at him sternly before exiting the shop. A nice wind hit him as he made his way outside, walking around in pointless circles before venturing out toward an outside bookshelf that held used books for sale. His fingers drifted straight to a torn up leather book, tugging it out to flip open the strange thing. It didn't have a title. It looked more like a journal than anything, and once Harry had it opened and flipped through the pages, he realized he was correct. Cursive handwriting broke out across the page, each letter not caring about the lines they where supposed to be in, and just scribbling were they wanted. Strange. He flipped the pages. Passion. Harry could feel it. The person would write with so much passion, the pen would poke holes through the page. 

And then Harry felt someone tug at his shirt. A little someone. He pulled the journal away and looked down at the boy, smiling widely and getting down to his height. "Hello there," Harry happily said. But then he took a look around. "Where are your parents?"

"Oh, they're at home. But my friend is around—wait, no. I lost him! That's what I did, I lost him. Have you seen him?"

Harry stood up and looked around once again, trying to spot any person frantically looking for—what looked like—a six year old boy. "I'm sorry, but what does he look like? Can you tell me what he's wearing?"

The boy nodded and tapped his chin, thinking. "He's got hair. And toes. And fingers. And he says these words, funny words."

Harry laughed, but shook his head. He was certain he couldn't find his friend with that description. "What kind of words?" He asked while putting up the book, and then placing a hand on his shoulder to guide him around.

"Fuck."

Harry widened his eyes. "What?"

"Oh!" He laughed. "That's the funny word he says."

"Zeke! There you are!"

Harry froze. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking it's not real, but then he opened them and turned around. And, yeah—there he is. In shorts and a Pink Floyd shirt. He has a bags in his hands. Harry watched Zeke run to Louis, who looked beyond happy to be reunited with . . . his little brother? Louis never mentioned a little brother. Maybe a cousin. Harry put his hands behind his back awkwardly.

"Harry," Louis said after putting Zeke down. He looked happy. But then he looked at Harry's outfit "What are you wearing?"

Harry looked up at him then. His lips were parted because of the way Louis sounded, shocked he would be so rude. All he had on was a pair of ripped jeans and a flannel. Yeah, maybe Harry dressed more strangely than a normal guy should, but this is the next step to becoming a man. He has to dress tough. "Clothes, obviously," he replied, offended. 

"Are you a hobo?" Zeke asked.

Harry looked down, and really, he couldn't help but laugh. He's awfully cute, honestly, with his brown eyes and wavy hair, and those little freckles dotting his cheeks. Adorable. Harry leaned down just slightly and tapped his nose. "No, I'm not. Do I smell like one?"

The boy sniffed in the direction Harry stood, but furrowed his brows when he couldn't smell anything. So he took a step closer and leaned forward, soon shaking his head. "You smell like roses. And I would know, 'cause one time, my Dad brought my Mom a big, big, big—like . . ." He stretched his arms out. "This big—bouquet of roses, and I didn't know they were for her and I just saw them sittin' there on the counter, so I took them and tried putting them back into the ground, but then my Dad found me and started yelling at me for getting into the flowers that were worth more than me foot—that's what he said—so . . . Hey! Louis, look! There's an ice cream place right there! See? See? Can we go? Please? I held your hand in all the big places like you asked, I deserve it!"

Harry fondly grinned. Something about children always made him happy, no matter what. He looked at Louis, finding it annoyingly cute how he seemed agitated by the begging. "I think he deserves it."

"Yeah! Mr. Rose Man agrees!"

Louis glared at Harry, but he only smiled back. "Zeke, Madeline said you can't have sweets, not when it's so close to supper time. Your parents are making you food," he said, which had Zeke huffing and shaking his head.

"Not fair! I went to Mr. Rose Man like you asked, I deserve ice cream."

Harry widened his eyes and looked at Louis, unable to stop the smile from forming. "He asked you to come to me?"

Zeke nodded. "Yeah. Said, 'Zeke, I need you to act like you're lost and go to that pretty man with the long hair.' I asked why but he just said I wouldn't get my dinosaur toy if I didn't. But I think I deserve both. I do, I was such a good actress."

Louis looked uncomfortable. He looked down at Zeke and nudged him. "You mean actor?"

"Whatever."

"Here," Louis said as he held out a bag towards Zeke. "Take your toy and play with it."

Zeke happily took it and sat down behind Louis to open it up. Harry was smiling, even though he didn't want to. Sure, what Louis did was cute and sweet, but that doesn't mean anything. "So he wasn't lost?" Harry quietly asked.

Louis laughed. Harry could sense it was an awkward laugh. "Kids say the weirdest things, right?"

Harry nodded slowly, knowingly. "Mm, right, right."

"So," he muttered, rubbing his lips together. Louis squinted his eyes at Harry. "How've you been? Been good? How's Niall and Liam?"

"Niall and Liam are good, yeah. Same old Niall, same old Liam."

"And you?"

Harry looked at the stop Ed was in, wondering why it was taking him so long to buy a candle. "M'fine, thanks." Then, he saw Ed exit the building with confident strides. Harry shook his head. "Oh, God, he bought it," he muttered to himself.

Ed was beside Harry in no time, holding the bag up to his face. "Bought it."

Harry laughed and shoved the bag away. "I see."

Ed put the bag down and then finally spotted Louis. "Hey, Louis! I like your shirt."

Louis flashed a quick smile. "Thanks."

Zeke popped up and tried to shove the toy toward Louis. "I want ice cream now."

Ed gasped. "Where did he come from?"

"A vagina."

"Louis!" Harry shouted disapprovingly, giving him a look. 

"What's a bajina?"

"No, vagina. I said—"

"Louis, stop!" Harry said, shaking his head. He could hear Ed laughing. "It's nothing, Zeke."

But Zeke wasn't listening. He had his face scrunched up, lips mouthing the word. "Vagina?"

"Yes! That's what it is, give it to me, man," Louis said, holding up his hand to high-five the little boy.

Harry couldn't believe that Louis was encouraging this.

"Fucking vagina's," Zeke whispered.

"Remember to tell Madeline that when we get you home, buddy."

Ed snorted. "Amazing."

Harry rolled his eyes and elbowed him. "Shut up."

"All right, we've gotta get going," Louis said, eyes lingering on Harry.

Harry shifted and looked down. "Okay."

"Um, right. Yeah, bye. I'll—bye."

Harry looked at Ed and frowned, ignoring Louis now, and waiting for them to walk away before pulling Ed in a hug. He missed Louis. He missed hearing his voice. God, this is hard. But he has to stop talking to Louis, has to do this for himself. It just hurts.


	27. ❁21❁

Harry and Josh had kept in contact after Gemma's breakdown. Harry wanted to see her, honestly. She'd been through a lot. But airplane tickets can be expensive and the rent was due soon. Josh, though, really does have a fortune. Harry wasn't the one to just accept such a thing, but was convinced that it's best for Gemma to have some family comfort. And it would be nice to get away from everything. He needs this a lot, needs space away from all of his problems to spend some quality time with his sister. And he's never been to America, so that's definitely a bonus. So he accepted the free airplane ticket. 

"Did you get your toothbrush?" Liam asked, Harry's suitcase in his hand. 

Harry laughed and nodded. Liam seemed to be worried that Harry wouldn't have everything he needed. "I do, Liam. And toothpaste."

"Good, good," he said as he patted Harry's shoulder. "I'm just a call away, okay? We can FaceTime, too. You know . . . in case you miss us."

Harry smiled and pulled Liam into a hug. "It's only, like, a week or so."

"Ten days! The longest we've been apart since we've lived together," Liam said, voice muffled against Harry's shirt. 

Liam's kindness made Harry's heart swell, now beginning to tear up. They pulled away from the hug and Liam cleared his throat, straightening up and acting like he didn't just shed a tear on his friend's shirt. Niall, on the other hand, didn't seem as upset. 

"Right, so. I'll be sleepin' in your bed, just saying," Niall quickly spoke, tugging Harry into a hug and patting his back.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Don't eat on the bed, please!"

Niall backed away with pursed lips. "Yeah, no, sorry. Can't say I won't."

And then someone spoke over the speakers, which said that Harry's plane was now boarding. Harry looked at his friends and grabbed his luggage, passport in hand as he waved and backed away slowly. He was a giggling mess when Liam accidentally hit Niall when he lifted his hand to wave. He'd miss them.

\+ + +

That wasn't fun. Well, the first class part was, but not the taking off and landing. Harry had never been on a plane, never needed to, and the only thing he wished was to have a companion to travel with so he wouldn't have had to do it alone. But now he's in California—exhausted, but he's here. He had his luggage in hand as he looked around for a familiar face, hoping to find Gemma as quickly as he could so he could go to her place and sleep. 

After an unpleasant few minutes, he then spotted that light hair that belonged to his sister. She was waving, her arms sticking up and flailing all over the place. They hadn't really talked since what had happened the last time they were together, but since she'd been through a lot recently, Harry thinks it's best to just leave it alone and not bring it up. 

He made his way to her happily, dropping his luggage to the floor so that he could properly embrace her. She hugged him tightly and he could feel her smile against his neck. It was when he pulled away that he noticed that Gemma was standing with a tall man. He had dark, messy hair and facial hair that suited him rather well. He stood with squared shoulders and a white, tucked in button-up. He seemed rather proper, that's for sure, but it had to be Josh. Harry smiled and shook Josh's hand when he extended it out towards him. "Josh," he smiled, nodding his head.

"Harry, nice to finally meet you," he spoke. Very American. 

Harry grinned and ran a hand through his hair, reaching for his luggage, but then retreating his hand away when Josh reached for it instead. He cleared his throat and watched as he walked off with it, leading them outside and to the car. Gemma wrapped her arm around Harry's, skipping happily.

"You're gonna have such a pleasant time with us! I'll take you to all the hot spots, too, it'll be so fun. Picnics here are so much better than those awfully dull ones you and I used to go on as kids, that's for sure. We'll definitely have a picnic."

Harry felt really happy.

+

Later that next day, Harry had felt a little better. He had slept a whole lot and tried to get accustomed to this new timezone, but he knew he'd get the hang of it. The house was utterly huge. It was honestly a modern day mansion with rooms bigger than Harry's apartment. He was going to ask Josh what he did for a living, but he'd been so exhausted that he forgot to.

Josh likes his recliner and likes to watch ESPN any chance he can. Harry felt like he was observing Josh, wondering how he could seem so manly. Maybe it's the beard. Harry raised his fingers to his chin and stroked at the nonexistent hairs, frowning since he'd never been able to grow much hair on his face. Louis can. 

"So, Harry," Josh suddenly spoke. Harry looked over at him from his position on the couch. "Tell me about yourself. I mean, Gemma tells me about you. You sell flowers and you're extremely caring." He scratches at his facial hair. "That's what she says. But I don't really know you. Do you watch any sports?"

Harry straightened up in his chair and placed his hands in his lap, smiling. "No, not really. I mean, maybe football here and there, but that's it."

"Oh, football? Those Broncos, right? And USC, hell yeah," Josh said with a nod, feet propped up in his recliner. 

Harry noted that his chillness made him look manly. He slouched his shoulders a little. "I—huh? I don't, um . . . Not American football, sorry. I meant soccer."

Josh furrowed his eyebrows and glanced towards the TV, humming. "Right, right, of course. I should've realized."

Gemma walked into the room, finally, and announced that dinner was ready. Harry stood and straightened out his shirt, beginning to make his way into the dining room. "Ah, I do hope your cooking skills have improved, Gem."

Gemma gasped and shoved Harry; he laughed and tugged a chair out to sit in. Honestly, even this room was humongous. A chandelier dangled from the ceiling that looked like glass teardrops. The room was painted a blue-gray color that made the room appear even more fancy. Harry isn't the one to be so fancy, and when he had first seen the house, he was extremely intimated by it. He has manners, but that's only common sense. He didn't know how to be proper, but it turned out he didn't have to be. Gemma is still Gemma and Josh wasn't stuck-up in the slightest. He lounged around in sweats and wore simple clothes—he made his own food, even. Harry felt bad for judging, but how could he not? He expected Josh to wear the finest clothes made from some exclusive place in France. And to parade around with expensive watches on his wrist. Josh didn't do any of that. 

Harry smiled at the two who were holding hands. Josh was sitting at the end of the table and Gemma was sitting near the edge. Then Josh held his hand out for Harry to take. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"We're praying, goofball," Gemma stated.

Harry widened his eyes and breathed out a laugh, reaching across to take Josh and Gemma's hands. They all closed their eyes.

"Dear Lord, we are so thankful for this evening to have my brother with us. And for the food. And California. The weather is always so nice, thank you. And protect us, too. Guide us in the direction's you see fit for our lives, Jesus. Thank you again. Amen."

Harry snorted immediately after it was over, pulling his hands away to place on the table. "Gemma, you're practically thanking God for Hamburger Helper."

Gemma gasped and put a hand on her chest. "I can't thank Him for that? Without it, who knows how disgusting this would really be!"

Josh laughed and started spooning the pasta onto his plate. "Remember the first time you cooked for me?"

Gemma instantly when scarlet. "No, don't you dare bring that up."

Josh turned to Harry with a grin. "She wanted to cook me breakfast, so she tried to make pancakes and stuff—normal breakfast things—but it tasted like a burnt leaf. Bacon? Under-cooked. Eggs? Over-cooked. I, of course, being the gentleman I am—told her it was wonderful. It wasn't. It really wasn't."

Harry laughed and stared between the two who were also laughing and giving each other a loving look. They held hands cutely; Harry's jealous of that. He wants it. He wants to laugh and be cute with someone and tell embarrassing stories about them. 

"I've improved!" she defended. 

He smiled and leaned across the table to kiss her forehead. "You have, otherwise I'd be dead."

Harry began to put food onto his plate. "How did you two meet?"

They instantly started to laugh even more. "Oh, God! Just as embarrassing," Gemma said as she shook her head. "I was in the library because I just love the quiet and calmness of it. It was my favorite thing when I was in college, really, and I couldn't stop going back to it. Anyway, this guy right here decided to show up," she nudged him. "While I was helping out the kind lady put up some books. Had a handful of books, went to go put them away, and he ran right into me! I went down and so did the books. I was quite angry, but then I saw his cute face and decided not to shout. Plus he was doing such a wonderful thing and donating to library." Josh tapped her nose.

"I thought she was too cute to be working there, so I had asked for her number. She gave me the wrong one, can you believe that?"

Harry shrugged.

"So I went back, and kept going back until she allowed me to take her out."

"Stalker," she muttered.

"No, I'm just romantic," he said, wiggling his brows.

"Not as romantic as Harry."

Harry flushed and waved his hands. "No, Gem! Sh, no. He's very romantic. I'm not."

She stabbed her food with her fork. "Oh, be quiet. That one time, with all the flowers? For that one boy? Long time ago, but surely you remember, Harry."

"Ugh," Harry groaned out shyly, placing his hands over his face. "It was silly!"

"It was romantic."

He parted his fingers to glare at her. 

"What happened with all the flowers?" Josh asked.

"Tell him!"

Harry lowered his hands and looked down at his lap. "All right," he sighed out. "Um, well. Yeah, so . . . I had developed a crush on this boy a few years back who had slipped me his phone number in one of my flowers. We started dating, blah, blah, and I decided to do something nice for him. He had this place he'd love to go to that was just completely run down. There was, like, this wooden swing that overlooked a forgotten garden. He said he loved it because his grandma would take him there, so I decided to fix up that garden and plant his favorite flowers in there. I painted the swing, too. I painted it blue, because I thought blue would look good with the flowers. That's all, really. Not very romantic, just nice."

Gemma rolled her eyes. "I think it's very romantic."

Josh sat back in his seat. "I need to step up my game." He looked at Harry. "I may need some advice."

Harry was blushing and giggling and happy. He didn't have to think too much here. He could just live and not worry about much, and that was a huge relief. He knew he'd have problems to deal with when he'd return, but for now, he's just going to enjoy all of this. He's going to explore California and eat a lot, and hike, and experience as much as he can.


	28. ✿22✿

Liam had promised Harry to keep his flowers watered and healthy, and that's exactly what he's doing. He had traveled down after school at two o'clock and checked on those flowers. He wasn't a flower expert, but he thought they were in good shape. Harry had given him some tips and pointers on how to see if the flowers weren't doing so well, but they looked great. Liam closed up everything and sent Harry a short message that said the flowers were good. He tucked his phone in his pocket and inhaled deeply, beginning to make his way back to the apartment so that he could rest. College can be stressful.

"Liam? Hey, wait! Liam!"

Liam stopped in his tracks and raised a brow, turning around to see Louis walking out of a tattoo place with a hand up. "Hey," Louis huffed out after running to him. 

Liam nodded once. "Hi there."

"So." Louis cleared his throat. "Is Harry sick again or something?"

Liam, out of confusion, laughed. "No, why?"

Louis immediately frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Ah, well. He hasn't been at work. Or replying to my texts. Didn't know what happened."

"Oh. He's in America right now with his sister. It was kind of abrupt and . . . he didn't tell you?" Liam asked.

Louis shook his head, but smiled. "Nah."

"Weird. Why wouldn't he?"

"You don't know...? Has he told you anything about us? About what's happened?" 

Liam blinked. "What happened?"

Louis sighed. "Oh," he muttered. "I think it's better if you just leave it to Harry to talk to you. If he wants to. We've just . . . we haven't been too great."

Liam felt offended that Harry wouldn't tell him this. That must be why he was so down in the dumps lately. God, of course. How could he be so blinded? Liam put a hand behind his head and scratched, annoyed. "You can't tell me what happened?"

Louis stared at Liam and shook his head in disbelief. "If Harry didn't tell you, do you think I would? It's not your business anyway, so please don't start acting suspicious around him. Sometimes we all need to keep things to ourselves, right? I'm sure there's something you have kept to yourself that no one knows about, Liam."

Liam looked away and cleared his throat, uncomfortable and wishing to get away. Of course he knows that and wouldn't pressure Harry into telling him anything, but he's just overprotective. He can help Harry, he believes. With anything. "Yeah, well. You don't know Harry. Harry needs to talk about things or he'll just become super weighed down by his problems. I would know."

Louis rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I think you're just snoopy."

Liam bit his lip to keep from saying anything too mean. "Bye," he muttered under his breath, stepping past Louis to head home. Liam didn't understand what Harry saw in Louis.

\+ + +

"What? Harry wouldn't hide anything from us," Niall said, glancing over the different kinds of oatmeal. What Liam said didn't make sense at all; Harry's fine. 

Liam huffed and reached for an assorted oatmeal box, tossing it in the cart. "I'm telling you the truth. And Harry hasn't been fine, that's obvious."

Niall watched Liam curiously. Liam had always been so protective over Harry. Harry's the sweetest thing in the world, but he still would never understand why Liam was so obsessed with protecting Harry. Niall huffed when a girl walked past Liam and held his attention until she was out of sight; he pushed the cart into Liam's back and shook his head. "How is it obvious?"

Liam turned around and shrugged. "It just was."

Niall pressed his lips together and pushed the cart down the aisle, snatching the grocery list out of Liam's hand so he could get out of the grocery store sooner. He glanced down at the list and made a turn for the frozen foods. 

"Someone seems grouchy."

Niall rolled his eyes and looked for the frozen fries. "I'm not," he muttered.

He heard Liam sigh behind him. "Niall, what did I do now?"

Niall only shook his head. He wasn't the kind of guy to voice his feelings too often; it made him uncomfortable. He just felt better staying away from drama and focusing on how nice life is. That led him to pushing his feelings away and ignoring them. Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder as soon as he had opened the door to where the frozen fries were, and he immediately knew it was Liam. Niall released a noise of frustration and turned around, two bags of fries in his hands. "Cajun or French?"

Liam stared at Niall and placed a hand on the door to keep it open, and the other on a closed one, trapping him. "You've been acting strange lately, what's wrong?"

Niall muttered incoherent words and tried to push Liam's arm away so that he could continue shopping, but he wouldn't have it. "Liam, I'm fine, ya dick. Let me outta here now, will you?" He asked, fiercely staring right into Liam's eyes.

Liam's eyes searched Niall's until he sighed and stepped away. "I'm not a dick," he quietly said.

Niall huffed and tossed the original fries in the cart. "I know, you were just annoying me."

"I'm soooorry," he drawled out, putting his arms around Niall's shoulders.

Niall looked down and shook his head, still upset. It's true that he had been acting strange lately for reasons he would not like to voice aloud. Liam started to sway side to side, arms still around Niall's shoulders, and finally, he broke out into a smile. "You're too touchy, wanker."

Liam patted Niall's chest. "I'm just caring." He pulled away and squeezed his shoulders. "What else do we need? I'm getting hungry."

"Tampons. I think you're getting your period," Niall rushed out as he pushed the cart forward, laughing.

The rest of shopping went something like that; making stupid jokes and testing out each other's masculinity by showing off how many bags of dog food they could carry. Niall hated that Liam won that round. Once they arrived back to the apartment and had put all the food away, Liam called Ed over for supper because they were attempting to cook a homemade pizza. 

"You've gotta, like, toss the dough. In the air, like you see on TV!" Ed shouted from where he was sitting at the table, beer in hand. 

Niall, determined, threw the dough in the air and widened his eyes as he watched it flop on the oven. He was quick to grab it and try to reshape it before Liam saw where it had landed. "Blooming idiot, why don't you try it? It's harder than it looks, and I don't want to be the one to ruin this!"

Ed was laughing, even snorted when Liam came in the room. Niall acted as if he didn't just drop the dough onto the unsanitary oven top. 

"My arms hurt," Niall grumbled.

"Too bad. We need at least three pizza's, I think. I invited a pretty girl over from school, so please, no embarrassing stories! I've been trying to get this girl home for weeks," Liam said.

Niall choked and accidentally dropped the dough on the floor. He took a step back with wide eyes, hands lifting to his forehead. Liam was talking, but Niall couldn't hear. There was a ringing in his ears, and as he looked up, he saw a concerned Liam stepping towards him. He placed a hand on his chest and moved away from the outstretched hands, ducking away from both Ed and Liam to make a run for Harry's room. Once he entered, he immediately pulled out his phone and called Harry, making sure the door was locked behind him. No one was knocking on the door, but his chest was pounding like someone was beating against it like one would a locked door.

"Niall! Hiya. I just woke up, you have great timing," Harry spoke.

Niall sat down on the bed. "Harry? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything."

"If you saw Louis with someone he liked, what would you do? Like, what if Louis didn't know you liked him at all, so he didn't think it would hurt you if he brought a date home? Or, like, you didn't know you felt this way until he spoke of a pretty girl, um."

"Niall, Niall. Hey, slow down. Breathe, okay? Deep breath in." He inhaled. "Deep breath out." He exhaled. "Now, start from the beginning. You like someone? Who is it?"

Niall gripped his phone tightly and looked down. "I can't . . . can't say. If I do, it just means what I'm feeling is real and I'm not ready for that."

"Okay. That's okay. Right, so if I saw Louis go on a date with someone, what would I do...? Ah," Harry paused, voice quiet. "I probably wouldn't do anything. But I know what I should do, and what you could probably do. Uh, maybe . . . tell whoever you like how you feel? That way you know if the feelings are reciprocated or not, and then you won't be, y'know, pining like I do a lot. Once you figure that out, though, you could just decide where to go to from there. Communication is important, I guess."

Niall huffed. "I can't do that, though. How would you handle the hurt?"

Harry inhaled deeply. "Going to America," he laughed out. "Niall, I'd just distract myself and try not to focus on that stuff. Go hang out with Liam and Ed to get your mind off things! Go buy some drinks and invent the best cocktail of all time; you like experimenting like that, right?"

Niall nodded. "Yeah. I'll go see if Berrie's needs any extra help tonight. Thank you, hope you're having a nice time. And, Harry? Can we keep this conversation between us?"

"Of course, pal. I love you! Take care of yourself, and stay safe."

After saying goodbye, he hung up and called his boss to ask if they needed an extra hand. Thankfully, they accepted the offer, so now he was off to work and able to avoid Liam and this girl. He stepped out of the room and grabbed everything he needed. "Hey, guys, I'm heading to work, they need me in tonight," he shouted out as he jogged over to the door.

Liam rushed out of the kitchen. "Hey! Wait, you're okay, right? What happened back there? You just took off."

Niall, with his hand on the doorknob, sighed. "Sorry, but I'm good!" He cheerfully said, then opened the door and ran out. This won't be fun.


	29. ❁23❁

Harry was wearing a pair of blue jean shorts and a gray t-shirt for the picnic Gemma planned. Josh was planning on going, but he had to unexpectedly head in to work. It had taken Harry a total of five days to ask Josh where he worked, and that was only because he was highly intimidated. But, of course, he shouldn't have been. He had also discovered that Josh is a bit of a dork, with a collection of comic books that Harry wished he wouldn't have read (he regretted reading the Civil War series most). During the time he was shocked and amazed by so many comics, it soon became clear as to why he had so much. Apart from collecting, he was the CEO of Greene book publications. The actual company was in New York, but he has an office in California he worked at. Josh said he preferred California over New York because of the relaxed vibe it gave off. And, since it's where he was born, he plans on staying there. But he also said that his company would have a fit if he was just living his simple life without any kind of work, so he'd taken it upon himself to build some much needed bookstores around the state—with Gemma's help. Harry may or may not be jealous. He can barely afford a small building to start a legitimate floral shop in, yet Josh is able to build as many bookstores as he dreams without a care in the world. 

"Harry, c'mon. We haven't got all day, you know," a voice said from behind him. 

He turned and immediately laughed as he watched Gemma lift a whole package of water bottles. She looked like she was preparing for the hike of her life, with a backpack on, sunglasses, proper boots and clothes. It's just a picnic, Harry wanted to say. Instead he reached out and grabbed the water to set down on the kitchen counter. "How much water do we need?" He asked, which sounded more like a complaint. 

"Enough to keep us hydrated! California is hotter than you think," she said, reaching into the package to pull out water bottles.

"Are you sure we're just picnicking?"

"Yeah!" She took off her backpack to put the water in. "But we're doing it at Sunken City. I wanna take you down there, you'll like it."

Harry wasn't too keen on the name. "What? Is Atlantis down there or something? Is it safe?"

Gemma laughed and shook her head. "Yes, it's safe. Now are you ready to go?"

Harry nodded and inhaled deeply, following Gemma out of the house. They both got in the car and headed off to Sunken City, which Harry hopes really is safe and not dangerous at all. California really is lovely; he can see why Gemma loves being here. The sun is out all the time and the weather is always so nice and warm. Harry really loved it too, and he hated that the trip was nearly over. He did miss his friends, though. And he really needed to talk to Niall. That call he had with him the other day worried him. 

Surprisingly, Harry had barely thought of Louis. There would be times when something reminded him of Louis, but his heart didn't feel like it was caving in on itself when he did. Maybe it was because he didn't have to face Louis out here, and didn't have to worry about running into him. There wasn't a connection to him out in California, and it helped Harry in an odd way. Made him really think, too. It was possible, he thinks, that he hadn't fallen completely for Louis and that's why it was beginning to be easy to get over him. Harry felt relieved that he didn't have to pine over Louis anymore. 

The drive was longer than expected, and once they got to the park and had unpacked everything, they both headed over to a tree to set up the picnic. The tree was tall and wide and shielded them both from the sun, which was perfect.

"After we're done eating, we're going right over there," she said as she pointed towards the ocean.

Harry turned his head, not really seeing much but a fence and then water beyond that. He reached for a water bottle and sipped it, brow raised. "As long as you don't kill me, I'll go."

"What?" She laughed out. "You're so strange, Harry." She grabbed a handful of chips and started to eat them. "Hey, tell me about that boy you were with when I came to visit you."

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back against the tree, his sandwich resting on his lap. "Why?" He whined out.

"Because you seemed to really like him, duh!"

"We're not really talking right now, Gem," he muttered.

"Why not?"

He huffed and looked away, towards the people walking on the sidewalk who just looked like they belonged in California, with their shorts and tank tops and sunglasses and tan skin. It was nice to see. "He didn't treat me nicely. I mean, well, no. He did. Sometimes. He's mean, okay? Not, like, horribly mean, but he's just snappy. And that's who he is, but I didn't like how it'd feel when he was leading me on and then forget about me. But it really doesn't make sense to me, is all. He'd be really kind, you know? Opened up to me once, too—then he'd shut me out. I don't know, it's so dramatic and it hurt too much to keep dealing with him, so I stopped."

Gemma puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. "Wow, all right, that doesn't make sense."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "What? What do you mean?"

She shrugged, placing her palms down onto the grass. "When I saw him rush into that restaurant because he thought you were hurt, it was so obvious that he cared about you. A lot, honestly. Doesn't add up. Why would that go away so quickly? Maybe he was dealing with something and wanted to keep you out of it? I don't know him, but the way he looked at you, Harry . . ." she trailed off and shook her head. "I dunno. I just know that I would stay away from men because of what happened to me," she quietly said. "And when I started to fall for Josh, I had shut him out big time. I'm not trying to justify Louis' actions, but I could probably understand them if he's been through anything tough."

Harry frowned and crossed his arms, head racing with all kinds of thoughts about Louis. That could be possible, and now Harry feels horrible for not being the Harry he should've been. He just got too hurt, and it was time to think of himself and put his feelings first instead of someone else's. He finished off his sandwich. "I'd rather not talk about it."

\+ + +

Sunken City wasn't terrifying Harry at all, no. It had gotten into his head that he was going to die. That the land he was standing on was going to sink into the ocean and kill him, but at least he'd be able to stare at huge chunks of rock that had been spray painted on and die while looking at wonderful art. 

He supposes it wasn't that bad, though. It was rather cool, the way the uneven ground was. Unsafe, but cool. Harry gripped onto a rock since they were walking further down into the depths of their death, and let it keep him from slipping as he followed Gemma.

"And what's the fun in this again?" He questioned.

"Shut up, will you?"

He felt the urge to kick her but held back from doing so. It went like that for a while, following down man-made trails and once coming across a trail of flat rocks that had been covered in graffiti in the coolest way possible. It was a sight to see, really. After venturing out for about an hour, they both settled on a chunk of a graffiti'd rock and looked out across the palm trees and ocean. So calm and beautiful. 

"It would be so easy to grow flowers out here," Harry noted.

Gemma turned to him and nodded. "It really would be. Wouldn't be cool if you moved here and became a florist here?"

Harry furrowed his brows in thought. "Doubt I could afford that."

"Josh has so much money, though!" She happily said.

He made a face and laughed. "I'm not going to take advantage of your boyfriend like that. And my life is in London. My friends are there. And Grandmother, too. I couldn't just leave all that. Yeah, it's beautiful here and flowers would grow like a dream, but I—I can't."

"Hey, it was only a thought," she sighed out. "But I'm just saying . . . if you ever wanted to. I miss you too, you know."

"Mom's buried in England, I couldn't leave her," he whispered out.

Gemma looked at Harry with wide eyes that had him wishing he didn't say that. "Harry, you can't possibly be saying that you're only staying there because of her. She—she's gone, she's not there. She wouldn't want you staying anywhere you wouldn't want because of her, anyway, so don't say that."

"I'm not saying that. I love it there, but she's just one of the reasons why I've stayed, not the only one."

\+ + +

"Liiiiiam!" Harry happily shouted into the phone while flopping down onto the bed. The most comfortable bed in the world. He didn't know what kind of mattress it was, but it felt expensive. 

"Hello! How are you?"

"Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. You guys should come down here with me next time I visit, we'll have such a great time! Gemma and Josh is taking me hiking to see the Hollywood sign tomorrow, it's gonna be amazing," Harry smiled.

"Sounds like you're having fun—ugh, Niall! Don't ruin the cushions!" Liam shouted.

Harry raised an eyebrow and flipped onto his stomach, feet kicking up as he toyed with the blanket beneath him. "What did he do?"

"He spilled a drink on the couch. He's become even more obsessed with making a new and original drink lately and it's just about stained everything in the flat," he angrily said. "Do not use those bleach pens!" He shouted, voice sounding distant from the phone. "Harry, I think I'm going to murder him."

"All right. Maybe those pens will be put to use, then—just don't make too big of a mess." Harry crossed his ankles. 

It was quiet on the other end of the phone, so Harry patiently waited until Liam was focused again. 

"Okay, sorry," Liam suddenly spoke. "I actually need to talk to you about something, H."

He raised his brows. "Yeah? Me too. 'Cause I really like it here in California. The weather is incredible! It would be an absolute dream growing flowers here."

Liam went silent again. "What are you talking about?"

"Well," he pouted. "You know how much I love my flowers and how it's my dream. I talked to Gemma and everything and she said she'd help me get on my feet if I ever considered . . ."

"Considered what?"

"Considered moving."

"Harry, no. What? You—you've barely been there a week and you're already planning on moving?" 

"Who's moving? Harry?" Harry heard Niall faintly speak. "HARRY," Niall shouted, much clearer now. "Don't you even dare think about that. You'll turn into those people are consumed by kale and quality Instagram feeds! Don't turn into those monsters."

Harry rolled his eyes and frowned. "It was just a thought. I . . . I thought you guys stood by me on what I wanted to do with my life?"

"We do," Liam said. "Just not when it takes you away from us."

"But—" Harry sighed. "I can't live there forever. And I'm—guys, I'm really happy here. I like the new scenery. I'm not saying I'm going to move, but it'd be nice to have options, you know? Like to decide what's best for me and everything."

"We know what's best for you!" Niall shouted.

"Niall," Liam whispered. "He meant to say that we want what's best for you. So you're not making any big decisions now, right?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not right now. I just . . . I don't know. So, what's going on over there? You said you needed to talk about something, right?"

Liam huffed. Harry imagined him rubbing his forehead. "It's about Louis, actually. I ran into him the other day and I need to, uh . . ."

Harry felt like his heart stopped beating. "To what?"

"Apologize. He told me you're not on the best of terms right now and I think it's my fault."

Harry let his feet fall down onto the mattress. "I—huh?"

"Okay, don't be angry. Right, so . . . a while back, Louis came to the apartment when you were taking Gemma to the airport and he was—there was something off about him. He was looking for you and I could tell he was really upset, but then he left and told me not to tell you he came over. I think—I think he was needing you and was sad, and now you two aren't talking because of me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I wouldn't intentionally hurt you, you know that."

Harry's lips were parted in shock. He furrowed his brows and sat up, utterly confused. "Oh," he quietly said. His chest suddenly hurt, because sometime after that is when Louis started to shut him out. "Liam, no. What happened between us isn't your fault, okay? Thank you for telling me, though." He ran a hand through his hair out of annoyance. Usually Liam got too protective when he finds out that Harry isn't doing well, but surprisingly, he didn't seem like that.

"I'm still sorry."

"I know." Suddenly the door in his room opened and Josh ducked in, motioning with his hand as if he was scooping up imaginary food and lifting it to his mouth. "Ah, Liam? Hey, yeah, I've gotta go. Time to eat. I love you! Tell Niall I love him, too. Byyyyye," he drawled out, hanging up. He fell back onto the bed and placed his arm over his face. Why does it feel like the drama will never end?


	30. 23½

Louis shook his head at Madeline and tried to give her the meanest glares he could. "I'm telling you, Donald Trump is secretly gay."

"That's ridiculous!" She shouted, the magazine she had in her hand flinging around in her hand. "He's married."

"Beard," Louis flatly said with a smug smile.

"You're a beard."

Louis gasped and placed his free hand over his chest. "As a gay man who is confident in his sexuality, I find that very offensive."

Madeline rolled her eyes. "No you don't."

He snorted. "You know me too well. You sure you're not still in love with me?"

"Will you ever let that go?"

"Never."

"Uh . . . guys? Can you do this later?" The man Louis was tattooing said. He was laid out on his stomach with his pants down because he wanted his girlfriends name tattooed on his ass. 

"Rude," Louis muttered, focusing on the curve of the big "L" he was working on. 

\+ + +

After a few more people had come in (one being a drunk woman that wanted a turkey leg tattooed on her own leg), his shift was over. He had stayed for a few hours after his shift to clean up so his boss wouldn't be on his case on his days off. He wanted a drink. He hadn't been out in a while and was too cooped up in his apartment, so he needed a night out. He invited Zayn out, and he'd asked if Madeline could go, which he thought was strange. Zayn and Madeline were always together now, but this? Zayn and Louis liked their nights out, with just the men. It was weird, he thought. But the perk is that Madeline is a great wing-woman. Sometimes they would tag team, it was quite fun. 

"I've never been to this bar," Zayn said, jutting his thumb up to the sign above the restaurant. 

Louis shrugged and exhaled. "Me either, let's go. I'm tired of the regular places, they're too straight."

Madeline cackled and opened the door to Berrie's with a smile. As they all stepped inside and scoped the place out, they decided to sit at a booth beside the window. It was quite large and had dim lights dangling from each booth. Louis poked the chain and watched it sway back and forth. 

"Two beers and a margarita?" Zayn asked, and when they nodded, he headed off to the bar to order the drinks. 

Louis stared at Madeline with narrowed eyes, before he started looking in the direction she was, which led to Zayn. Then it hit Louis. He gasped and banged his fist on the table, making the salt and pepper shakers jump. "I know your secret!" He whisper-shouted. She looked at Louis with wide eyes. "You like Zayn." 

She stuck her hands out to place them over his mouth. "Shut up!" She huffed and pulled her hands back in disgust when Louis licked her palms. "Ew, gross." She wiped her hands on her jeans. "You can't mention anything to Zayn, he wanted to keep it on the down-low."

Louis tried to stand but wound up hitting his head on the light above the table. He slouched back into his seat with a hand on his head, frowning. "You're both...? Together? Couple? What? Where have I been? Why didn't I know? Have you guys screwed? Ew. Ew! My friends doing it, no. I don't want to imagine that, I'm scratching my eyeballs ou—"

"He's coming!"

Louis sat up and placed his hand out towards Zayn's to get his beer, swigging half of it down before he could sit beside his girlfriend. Wiping his mouth off with his sleeve, Louis smiled evilly and decided he wanted to watch them squirm. He now wants Zayn to admit that he's dating Madeline, so he's going to squeeze it out of him. "So, Zayn." He saw Madeline tense. Louis looked around the room and spotted a blonde. Louis nodded in the girls' direction. "She looks about your type, right?"

Zayn turned his head and stared at the girl, looking back to Louis with an uninterested expression. "Nah, not really."

"Oh, bull," Louis stood and drank the rest of his beer. "I'll go get her number for you," he smiled and patted Zayn's shoulder as he made his way over to her. 

She was talking to other girls, but Louis nudged his way between them and smiled at the girl. She's prettier than he thought, with bright blue eyes and a nose that curved out at the tip. She could've lightened up on the bronzer, but she was a sight. "Hi," he smiled, and she instantly rolled her eyes. "Honey, don't give me that look. I'm as straight as those curly fries you've got. I'm trying to get your number for my shy friend over there," he pointed to Zayn. She looked. "You can't deny his beauty, can ya?"

She laughed and turned back to Louis with a shake of her head. "Guess not. But who's that girl he's sitting with?"

"His sister. So, can I get your number for him?"

She bit her lip and nodded, pulling out a piece of paper from her bra. Louis raised his eyebrows in fascination. She wrote down her number on the paper and handed it to him. Louis stared at it to make sure she put down the right amount of numbers, and then smiled deviously. "Thanks, Emily," he said as he read off her name from the paper. He skipped back to the table and slammed the paper down in front of Zayn. "You're welcome."

Zayn picked it up and sighed, sneaking a look to Madeline that Louis definitely caught. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

The smile Louis had on his face was wiped away. This is gonna be harder than he thought. "I'm getting another drink," he muttered out, shoulders slumped as he walked to the bar. 

He felt a hand on the small of his back once he made it to the bar. "Aren't you a pretty thing."

Louis didn't feel like turning around, and instead snapped his fingers and pointed across the room. "Go away." The hands removed. Louis licked his lips and waited for the bartender to get to him. "Hey, get me drunk," he said. He worked better drunk. The guy nodded and prepared a drink in a shot glass, placing it in front of Louis. Louis raised a brow and picked it up, eyeing it unhappily. "Seriously?" He said to himself before downing the drink. He almost spewed it back up, the burn in his throat nearly too much to bear, but once he swallowed it all, a wave of dizziness swept over him. "Jesus Christ."

He placed money down and ordered another, drinking it, and then making his way back to the booth, plopping down in it clumsily. "I think I just drank something illegal." His mind was reeling with thoughts now. "You guys would make a disgusting couple," he slurred out. "I'm glad you're not dating because that would take you away from me," he grinned, deciding to guilt them.

He could tell Zayn felt bad as he stared at Madeline, somehow speaking telepathically. Zayn glanced at Louis and uncomfortably laughed. "I—yeah, ha."

Louis frowned. "I'm glad we're so close that we can tell the truth, you know? We don't keep anything from each other and that's—"

"We're dating!" Zayn shouted, placing his hands over his face.

Louis put a fist in the air in victory. "I know, dimwit. But now that I think about it, I'm sad. Thanks for telling me, guys. Glad you had to feel the need to keep this from me." He stood walked over to the bar, deciding to stay there for the rest of the night. He's starting to feel like those shots weren't a good idea.

\+ + +

The fight had been going on for thirty minutes now. Louis wouldn't budge from his seat at the bar to go sit with Zayn and Madeline, and they haven't walked over to apologize, so Louis decided to just stay where he was until they gave in. He knew he wasn't. 

The bartender who had given him that drink left only a few minutes ago, which sucked because Louis liked the drinks he made. He already knew he was going to be bitching to the other one when he sees him. And just as that thought crossed his mind, he watched someone step out from the door in the back and arrange some drinks with his back to Louis. Louis glared. 

"Why're you sitting all alone?" Louis felt heard someone whisper in his ear.

He straightened and turned to the man who sat beside him, but his eyes bulged instantly. "Liam?!" He gagged and shuddered out of disgust. "Dude, are you flirting with me?" He hit Liam's shoulder repeatedly, figuring it was the right thing to do in his drunken mind.

Liam was quiet and jaw-slacked. "Louis, I was—I was joking. Promise, I was," he quickly said, looking absolutely petrified.

"Mm, right, okay," Louis brushed it off. When the new bartender turned around, Louis had to shut his eyes and open them again to make sure he was seeing correctly. Niall placed a drink in front of Liam and waited, but Louis waved his hands in amazement. "Niall!"

Niall looked at Louis and immediately smiled. "Louis, hey! What brings you here?"

Liam gagged. "Oh, god, too much vodka. Way too much." He handed the drink back to Niall.

"Dammit," he muttered. 

"I came with my friends but we're fighting a war in our brains that forbid us from sitting with each other. I'm the one who declared war because they lied to me. They're dating!" Louis turned his head to glare at them. "Disgusting creatures who love to give mouth-to-mouth are the worst."

"Ya mean kiss?" Niall asked as he turned back around to make another drink.

"How many drinks have you had?" Liam asked.

Louis shrugged and swiveled around in his chair, shushing Liam, and then sticking his hands and feet out. "I'm floating, that's how many."

"That literally made no sense," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Literally," Louis mocked. "Literally, literally, literally."

"Jesus, you're a handful."

Louis smiled and nodded, but then hit Liam's shoulder when a girl in tiny shorts walked by. "Look at that," he whispered.

Liam looked, but then stared at Louis with furrowed eyebrows. "Louis, you're gay."

Louis snorted. "I know! Just trying to fit in with the men around here." He swiveled back around in his chair and called Niall over. "Niall, my good man, give me something good to drink."

"You sure? Looks like you've had a lot, mate."

"Okay, Harry, chill out. I can handle my drinks." Louis burped. Niall shook his head with a sigh and grabbed a tall glass, pouring some clear liquid in it and handing it to Louis. Louis downed it without a second thought and then slammed it down on the table when he was finished. "Refreshing. Tasty. What was that?"

"Water," Niall said, moving off to someone else. 

Louis furrowed his eyebrows in thought, wondering how water could taste so good. "How does water have taste? How does it taste good? Who thought of the word water? Who saw water and thought, 'oh, yes, I shall name this clear and purified urine-like substance water.' Strange, that. Water. Hm." Louis felt a buzz in his pocket and swooped his hand down to grab his phone, quickly pulling it out to see who the message was from, but frowned when it was just a sports update.

"Expecting to hear from someone?" Liam asked, a beer in his hand.

Louis shrugged and put his phone face-down on the counter. "Maybe. Harry hasn't texted me back in a while."

"How long?"

Louis pursed his lips. "Well, I texted him the last time I saw you, which was only a few days ago, so that makes it about two weeks since he's last responded to me."

Liam choked on his beer and started coughing. Louis patted his back. "Two weeks? What the hell, so you don't know?"

Louis stopped patting Liam's back and put his hand down, straightening up and shaking his head. "Know what?"

"He's thinking about moving," Liam quietly said. 

Louis widened his eyes and grabbed his phone and wallet, putting them both in his pockets before standing up and trying to walk off. Everything was spinning and he was seeing double, which definitely slowed him down from leaving. Frustrated, he stopped walking and held his arms out. "Stop moving, everyone! I am trying to leave," he shouted, walking slowly until he felt someone grab his upper arm. "Let go, ugly human!"

Liam pulled Louis again and tried to force him back in his seat. "Calm down! Where are you even going?"

He put his index finger up. "To the airport!" He was suddenly surrounded by people. 

"What's going on?" Zayn asked. 

"Oh, now you come over," Louis muttered.

"He wants to go to California to see Harry," Liam informed. 

"Why?" Madeline grabbed Louis' other arm to help restrain him from moving. 

"I have to see him!" Louis said, now completely serious. He tried to twist out of their grip. "I have to see him," he whined. "Please."

"Not like this, you're drunk!" Liam said.

"Here," Niall said, now in front of Louis with some weird looking green juice. "Drink that."

"Ew, why?" Louis asked, reaching out for it. 

"It'll help sober you up, trust me."

Louis sniffed it and gagged, but looked around at all the faces staring at him. He huffed and pinched his nose shut, then tipped his head back and started to drink the lumpy drink. About halfway through, he pulled it away and nearly puked it up, but when that passed, he drank the rest and handed the glass back to Niall. "I just consumed vomit."

"No, a Horan family recipe. You're welcome," he said while going back to the bar. 

"Now can I go?" Louis asked. "Someone take me to the airport!" He shouted. 

"Not without a bag of clothes, at least. And money," Madeline said as she reached into her pocket to pull out a key to Louis' apartment. "I'll go pack your stuff up for you." She turned to Liam. "Bring him to the airport, I guess."

Liam looked shocked but slowly nodded his head and watched Madeline and Zayn head out to get Louis his things. He looked at Louis. "Lou, what will you even say to him?"

Louis exhaled loudly and tried to get the aftertaste of that awful drink out of his mouth. "I dunno, whatever comes to mind."

And after an hour of debating and driving, Louis convinced Liam and everyone else he was sober. Niall ditched his job to see Louis board the plane because he said this was like every love movie he'd ever seen and wanted to be a part of it. Louis only shook his head and made sure he had all his things together. It's going to be a long trip and he knows it's going to be filled with thoughts only about Harry. About how much he missed him and his stupidly attractive long, curly hair. And about how much he likes him. He does, he knows it now. He's not messing around or doubting, he's certain. He wants to stop letting the past haunt him and move on. Move on with Harry. But he needs to do that honestly; it's giving him anxiety knowing that he'll have to spill everything that's happened between him and Matt to Harry finally. He doesn't want Harry to know how truly messed up he is.


	31. ✿24✿

Harry had tripped three times on the hike so far. Gemma had told him they couldn't really go to the Hollywood sign, but they could admire from afar—on a hill—to watch the sun set. It truly was beautiful seeing the sun set over the city and watch the switch from the daytime feel of it to the nighttime. That was Harry's idea, to see the city at night, but that just caused everyone's journey back to the Jeep rougher. It was worth it. 

He made sure to take as many pictures and videos as he possibly could so he could show Niall and Liam when he returned. In only a few days he'd be back, and really, he was sad to be heading off. He missed his home, but he loved California and the time he got to spend with Gemma and Josh, so he hated to say goodbye. Harry doesn't know when he'll be able to come back; he's going to make sure to really savor these next few days. 

Once in the car and now on the way back to Josh's house, Harry only now realized how late it was. It was inching around twelve in the morning. He supposes Josh can have perks like hiking to the Hollywood sign after hours and getting away with it because he's got a lot of money. Rich people. 

"Hey, wanna go swimming when we get back? Josh finally got the pool cleaned," Gemma said, left hand in Josh's over the console. Harry felt bad for being sad—he wanted to hold hands with someone. 

Harry scrunched up his nose in thought. "Depends. May be a little tired from all that tripping today, but maybe I'll take a quick dip. I . . . didn't really bring anything to swim in. I'm the worst at being in California," he laughed. 

"I think I've got something I could lend you," Josh said. 

Harry shook his head. "No, thanks! No offense, but I heard you like to swim without any pants on."

Gemma gasped.

Josh tilted his head in confusion. "Of course not, I wear trunks." Gemma leaned over to him and whispered something in his ear. "Oh," he quietly said. "Why would you tell him I don't swim with underwear on...? I—no, saying he's your brother isn't a good excuse . . . Oh, now I'm embarrassed," he quietly spoke to Gemma. "I only partly did that for you because you said you liked how—"

"Don't say that!" She shouted. 

Harry wanted to laugh but felt like it would be considered rude, so he lifted his hand to his face and buried his grin into his palm. 

"What? I'm whispering."

"You're a very loud whisperer, doofus."

"Harry? Could you hear me?" Josh asked. 

Harry snorted, unable to keep in his laughter. "Yes, I could."

Josh playfully hit the steering wheel. "My secretary said I was great at being quiet!"

"What a liar he is," she said with a quick laugh.

Harry sat back for the rest of the ride and admired how they bantered back and forth, making awful jokes and quoting movies or TV shows when the funny situation became relevant enough for it. He's jealous beyond words, but happy that they're happy. He wonders if he'll be able to find someone like that, someone he can truly be himself around. It was weird that a couples' happiness could make Harry feel upset. He hated that, because it had been such a wonderful day, and now he's sad because he just feels alone. His mind drifted to his phone and how he had avoided Louis' messages; he pulled it out and went straight to them. 

louis.: hey hazzy ! hope youre doin well, text me when you can (: x

louis.: found this dandelion and it reminded me of u ha

louis.: it'd be nice if you called me back 

louis.: you suck ?

louis.: meant to say sick !! not suck , u dont suck I swear 

louis.: liam doesnt know what happened between us and I think it's my fault if he starts to treat u like a child im sorry

Harry frowned and leaned his head back against the headrest, shutting his phone off and deciding to zone out until he's back at the house.

He's glad the car ride wasn't that long, because he would've been too consumed by guilt and would've caved in to Louis' messages and had responded. But he's not alone. He doesn't have to pout in his room when he's sad; he can't do that. He's going to spend time with his sister and swim until he's all pruned up and then shower and sleep, that way he'll be too exhausted to think. That's why he was in such a hurry to get inside and change into a blue pair of gym shorts he'd brought along. 

The pool in the backyard was huge and shaped like a capital B, and between the dips of the B was a hot tub. He's still amazed by how much money Josh has to afford something like that—it blows his mind. Lights shined from inside the pool and faded into different colors, which somehow made it appear even more expensive, but he didn't really care about that when he canon balled into it. He sprung up above the water happily with a shaking head to get the hair out of his eyes. Soon, Gemma had joined and did the exact same thing Harry did when he jumped in. What seemed like minutes of messing about and trying to force each other under the water, turned into two hours. Two hours of laughing and playing child games like they used to, and Josh had even joined in, who was always trying to grab Gemma by surprise and toss her into the water. It was oddly a bonding experience between Harry and Josh, who had teamed up so they could trick Gemma in Marco Polo. All they did was hop out of the pool and frustrate her the best they could. When it had gotten even later, Josh called it a night and went inside to sleep. Gemma and Harry stayed in the pool, on a blow-up shaped donut and pizza slice, silently floating.

"This is making me crave pizza," Harry said. 

Gemma laughed. "This is making me crave a donut."

"What a predicament we're in," he said with a shake of his head. 

"Hey," she said, kicking Harry's pizza-shaped pool float. "I've been meaning to tell you, but I know you told Josh about Dad." Harry froze and stared at the dark sky. "I'm not upset. It's kinda a relief that he knows. But that breakdown I had, it was—I don't know why I freaked out, it all just came down on me and—"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain," Harry interrupted. "You got the roughest part of it, Gem. And I hate that." He put his hands on his stomach and frowned. "You should know that—that I love you, okay? You're the toughest person I know and I'm so glad you're happy now, you deserve it. Josh is so nice and sweet." Harry heard Gemma sniffle so he looked over with furrowed eyebrows. "Oh, I didn't mean to make you cry."

She waved her arms. "Sh, no, it's fine. I'm just happy, I really am." She wiped her eyes. "Now we need to get you as happy as I am."

Harry giggled. "I—"

"Harry?" A voice intruded it. It was Josh, who looked sleepy. He pointed to the door. "You've got someone here."

Harry tilted his head in confusion and hummed, wondering who would be here for him at such a late hour. He slumped off his pizza and swam to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out, grabbing a towel, and then joining Josh. "Be right back," he told his sister, who was getting out of the pool too. He didn't ask who it was, just silently walked through the house to get to the front door. At some point (Harry was too wrapped up in his thoughts to realize), Josh had left him alone to answer the door privately. 

Once he reached the door, he pulled it open, shirtless and slightly sleepy and confused. He didn't even think about trying to cover up, but he wished he did. It was a boy, back turned to Harry. He was wearing black jeans and a black tank-top, but Harry knew who it was, he just couldn't believe it. He couldn't speak. The door closed behind him, which made Louis jump and turn around. 

The moonlight hit him beautifully, shining onto his eyelashes and cheekbones and soft hair. Harry felt like he was suffocating and all the feelings he had pushed away suddenly crashed onto him. His back hit the door, wide-eyed and mouth agape as he stared at Louis like he was a ghost. 

Louis shyly smiled and stepped closer. "Hi," he exhaled out. 

Harry couldn't speak.

Louis got closer, then gulped as he stepped up onto the porch. His eyes drifted down to Harry's tattoos on his torso, but he quickly shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Harry, I need to tell you something. And you're going to listen and try to not hate me, okay? I just have to do this because . . . because you deserve to know," Louis spoke, voice shaking nervously. He looked away. Harry still couldn't form any words. "I was in a very . . . dysfunctional relationship about a year or so ago that really messed me up. Matt saw me as a tiny thing that he could use whenever he wanted, and I let him because I loved him. I know. Stupid, right? But I did love him. Sometimes he would be really sweet and kind and I convinced myself that's who he was, but he really wasn't. It wasn't a violent relationship, but verbally it was. I won't get too into details unless you want me to, all right? I'll tell you if you wanna know about him, but he just destroyed everything about me. Made me believe I couldn't be happy with anyone else. It was scary and I didn't want to like anyone else, but dammit, Harry." Louis was pacing now and scratching the back of his head. 

Harry moved away from the door and licked his drying lips, reaching out for Louis. He was getting worked up and Harry wanted to calm him down, so he grabbed his hand. That surprised Louis and immediately stilled him; he closed his eyes. "And then you come into my life, all cute and clumsy. I told myself I didn't have feelings for you." Harry couldn't breathe now. "I didn't want to. I'm bitter and broken and messed up in so many ways." Louis pulled his hand out of Harry's and placed them over his face. 

Harry finally found his voice. "Louis," was all he could say for a few seconds. But then he said, "Louis, you don't have to tell me this. Your past is your past, you don't have to explain yourself to me," he quietly said. But Louis just turned around and was crying. Harry had never seen Louis cry before. His heart was shattering and he didn't know what to do but let him get out what he needed to. 

"I do, though. I've—I've done something horrible, Harry." He shook his head and looked down, his back still to Harry. "I killed my sister."

Harry swallowed and blinked, confused and afraid of doing and saying the wrong thing. What could he say to something like that? He killed his sister?

"I was only seventeen. I was a stupid kid and had just gotten my license. I didn't see the car."

Harry finally moved to stand beside Louis. He hugged him, arms wrapping around him from behind, and Louis sobbed loudly, turning around in Harry's arms and holding him tightly as he cried into his neck. "I should've seen it. I should have slowed down. She was just a girl, Harry. Not even a teenager yet, and I took everything away from her," he spoke, words muffled from his crying.

Harry couldn't help but cry too, his hands rubbing up and down Louis' back gently to try and comfort him. There's no words that could be spoken to ease his heart, Harry realizes. He didn't know what to say and he felt horrible for it. "Sh, it's okay," he whispered, allowing him to let out whatever he needed. He hoped that was enough for Louis. 

It took him a moment to calm down and pull away from Harry, but he did with a brave face and rubbed his eyes. "That's, uh. I don't know if you still hate me or what, but I needed to let you know." Louis suddenly laughed, no traces of humor laced in it at all. "Because you need to know how messed up I am. And you're moving, aren't you? I mean, well, I had to do something to try and stop you, because—because I . . . Harry, you make me happy, believe it or not. And I—you know . . . I—"

Harry couldn't take it. He had spent so many nights dreaming about Louis, wanting him in a way he had never wanted someone before. He understood what Louis was trying to say, he really did. But he couldn't keep it in anymore, and that's why he grabbed his face and pressed his lips onto Louis'. He kissed him. He kissed him with all this pent up want and desperation, yet sadness and heartache and all of it, like all of his emotions came out at once and expressed itself in this one kiss that meant the world to him. And Louis kissed him back with just as much passion, their lips meshing into something beautiful. Louis' lips were dry and his lip piercing was cold and he tasted like he had eaten a lot of airplane peanuts, but it was everything Harry had wanted. 

Louis had placed his hands right onto Harry's chest and started to push him back, lips accidentally detaching. Harry released a noise he couldn't explain when he was pushed against the house by Louis. He had placed his hands in Harry's curly hair and wound his fingers tightly in it, and kissed him. He kissed his lips and made the kiss much more slower unlike the rushed and messy one before. It was like Louis wanted to memorize Harry's lips with his own. 

Harry started crying.

He didn't mean to. He just couldn't believe the boy he's liked for so long is kissing him. Harry can't believe that the one who had been called rude by many people just broke down in front of him and flown all this way just for him. No one had ever done such a thing for Harry, and for it to be the guy he's hopelessly falling for to do it, made him feel so wanted and cared about. 

"Harry," Louis quietly spoke against his lips. "You're crying. Why are you crying?"

Harry laughed and pouted, blushing when Louis wiped away the tears. "I've just wanted that for so long," he said, embarrassed.

Louis smiled, face lighting up and eyes shining. He looked so happy. Louis kissed his nose. "Dork."

Harry giggled. Who knew being called a dork would make him so happy. They both moved away from each other, Harry's lips tingling from when Louis' were on them. He cleared his throat and suddenly felt way too awkward without a shirt on. "Um, did you...? You're staying, right? Do you have your things? You can stay. I want you to stay. I mean, this place is huge, isn't it? We have room. There's, like, three or so extra rooms you can choose from. If you don't like any, you could totally take my room and I'll just sleep somewhere else. I'm okay with that. Do whatever you want, Louis. This is America. The land of the brave and home of the free. Wait, no. Is it the other way around? Land of the free and home of the brave? Something like that. Something about freedom and stuff, I'm sure," Harry rambled, happy. He flushed after he spoke, realizing how pointless all that rambling really was. 

Louis grabbed his suitcase that was resting at the bottom of the stairs and walked up, fondly smiling. "You're so cute." Harry grinned. "I'll just sleep wherever, I don't care. Was half-expecting to sleep in a hotel anyway."

Harry opened the door and jumped when he saw Josh and Gemma with their heads stuck out like they had pressed their ears on the door. "Wha—?"

"We weren't listening," Gemma quickly said.

Josh cleared his throat and straightened up. "Hi. Will you be staying with us?"

Louis awkwardly laughed and looked at Harry. "If that's okay."

"It's more than okay!" She happily said, tugging Louis in. She hugged him. "Louis. So glad you're here."

He stiffly patted her back. "Uh, thanks."

She stopped hugging him and patted his cheek, which had Harry stepping in and giving her a pleading look. "Gem," he whined. 

"No, yeah, okay. I'm fine. Right. I'll go—we'll go. We're sleepy, yawn," she spoke, tugging Josh away from the two. 

Harry face-palmed and shook his head, too embarrassed to speak. Instead he just gave Louis a shy smile and walked him upstairs to where he stayed, opening the door to his room and flicking on the light. "This is where I sleep," he said, hurrying in and kicking the clothes he had scattered throughout the room earlier under his bed. Louis left his suitcase by the door and looked around in awe, taking a seat on the bed. 

"God, this bed is so nice," Louis said, leaning back and shutting his eyes. Harry smiled and stared with his arms crossed. "And huge. I can see why you want to move."

Harry's smile faltered. "Hey, about that." Louis slowly sat up. "I wasn't, like . . . really going to. It was just a thought I shared with Liam, that's all."

Louis motioned with his head for Harry to sit beside him, so he did. "I'm glad you're not. But it was kind of a wake-up call when he told me you were thinking about it. I like you, Harry. I was awful to you. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I would lead you on, but I was just scared of what I was feeling. I was feeling too much too quickly, but I realize now that I was being ridiculous. I like you. There. I said it. Not afraid. I don't want to lose you."

Harry looked down at his hands and smiled, heart thumping heavily in his chest. He saw Louis' hand slowly reach out and cover his hands, which stopped him from messing with them. "I understand. I'm sorry too, what I did wasn't any better."

"And?"

"And I like you."

"And?"

"And you're very attractive."

"And?"

"And I wanna kiss you again. 

"... And?"

"Uh . . . " Harry thought, lips pursing. "And you're really cute?"

"Way to say that with pure confidence."

Harry looked over at Louis and leaned closer, wondering now if he could just kiss Louis whenever he wanted. He put his hand on Louis' chest and tried to kiss him, but frowned when he fell back onto the bed. He stared, confused. "You fell," he stated.

Louis rolled his eyes and gripped Harry's bare shoulders, tugging him down to kiss him. "And you're still shirtless."

Harry flushed and pulled back, sitting up and placing his hands over his chest. "Oh no."

Louis only laughed and tried to tug him back down. Harry finally caved in and laid beside Louis, still shirtless. He was too happy to do anything but admire Louis. He felt like a teenager just now experiencing his first time with a boy. It's what it feels like—scary and exciting all at once. He didn't want this feeling to ever go away, or the lips that started to kiss his cheeks.


	32. ❁25❁

He woke up with a frown. Harry sighed and felt like he wanted to cry as he sat up in bed all alone, upset that a dream was messing with him like that. How dare his mind play such a trick on him. He wiped away the sleep from his eyes and got out of bed, just now realizing he fell asleep in what he had swam in. He shook his head at himself and sadly walked out of the room and to the bathroom to shower. 

It felt so real, he thought to himself as he stepped into the warm water, beginning to cleanse himself. It felt like someone had actually kissed him and played with his hair when he was falling asleep. He could've sworn he heard someone humming The Beatles when he was fell asleep, and that must be why Hey Jude is stuck in his head. Harry hates dreams. He hates sleeping. He never wants to sleep again. 

He got out of the shower after he was done and dried himself off, brushed his teeth, and wrapped a towel around his waist before he stepped out of the bathroom unhappily. He slowly trudged back into his room and slammed his door shut, rummaging for something comfy to wear. He knew he would be upset all day, so he went for cozy sweats and a shirt with a hole at the hem of it. Cozy enough. And he smelled bacon. Harry stomped out of the room, wishing he could rant about his dream, but that would be silly of him. Men don't get so worked up over a dream.

Frowning, he walked into the kitchen, but stopped in his tracks when he spotted Louis with a mug in his hand, staring at bacon sizzling on a pan. Louis turned his head and smiled. "Good morning, sleeping beauty!" He said with a wide smile, leaving the bacon cooking on the stove and mug on the counter to walk to Harry. He kissed him and shook his hand through Harry's damp hair. "I like spearmint toothpaste."

Harry gulped. "I—huh?"

Louis stared at Harry with a brow raised. "Your toothpaste. Spearmint." He poked his stomach. "Someone didn't get enough rest."

He watched as Louis walked away so that he could tend to the bacon. "I thought it was a dream," he quietly said.

"What was a dream? I dreamt about a turkey chasing me in a Teletubbies episode. Wonder what that means."

"I thought we were a dream. Last night. That really happened?"

"Oh," Louis said, finally catching on. He took the bacon out of the pan. "It did. You kissed me, big boy. Wasn't a dream."

Harry flushed and looked down, biting on the inside of his cheek. "Was it okay, then?"

"Hm?"

Harry glanced up and shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "The . . ." He smiled. "The kiss."

He walked over to Harry while chewing on a piece of bacon and placed a hand on his hip. He was wearing an Adidas sweater that gave him an adorable soft look; Harry wanted to cuddle him. 

"Do I need to refresh your memory?"

Harry gulped; he certainly wasn't used to this. It really did seem too good to be real. Maybe he should pinch himself and see what happens. But if it is a dream, then he decides he doesn't want to wake up, not ever. Louis had grabbed Harry by the hem of his shirt anyway and pulled him closer (he liked that, he really did. He wanted Louis to push him against the counter like that and kiss him with this rough—yet soft—action), their mouths desperately finding each other's in this messy morning kiss. Louis' tongue was in Harry's mouth and that made his knees buckle; he'd never been kissed like this, and at an hour like this, he surely wasn't expecting. Louis pulled back with Harry's lower lip between his teeth.

Harry had wide eyes, lips staying parted as he gripped onto the counter behind him to help keep him standing. "I—whoa."

"Get a room, you two," said a tired voice. 

Louis didn't move away too much, just winked at Harry and exhaled through his nose humorously. "Sorry," he said to Gemma. Then he turned to Harry and mouthed, "no I'm not."

Harry's face was burning up. "I don't know what's happening," he said, clearly not used to this type of attention from Louis.

"I was trying to make breakfast before everyone woke up," Louis said, walking over to Gemma when she was peeking around at the bacon. 

"How did you sleep?' She asked. 

"I didn't. Couldn't for some reason. Harry's too pretty not to stare at. Who needs sleep anymore?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and wondered if his face was actually on fire. There's no way it could be this hot if it wasn't. Did Louis stay with Harry all night? He just stayed back for a moment, watching them both talk, before he just left the kitchen. "Trippy," he muttered to himself. He'd never seen Louis so upbeat and happy. It couldn't be real, he thought. Something this good just doesn't happen to him. He walked upstairs to his room and looked in the mirror that was on the door in the closet, staring at himself and holding his arm out, giving it a good pinch until he winced and stopped. He ran his fingers through his hair and raised a brow, trying to figure out if this is actually happening. He had his tongue pinched between his forefinger and thumb when the door opened. 

"That's normal," Louis said. 

He turned, frustrated and frowning. "I'm confused."

"About?" He sat on the bed. 

"What are we? I mean, gosh. I don't care for a label right now, but is this...? Are we gonna be a thing? You're not going anywhere? You're gonna stay here and kiss me like you have been?" Harry asked.

Louis' tongue was messing with his piercing at the corner of his lip. "Dunno. Just trying this out to see what happens. We can't do that? And I'm not going anywhere." Harry felt bad. "Hey, come here." He walked over. Louis spread out his legs so he stood in between them and smiled when they held hands. "Promise I'm not going to leave this time, not after all of this."

Harry shrugged. "Just feels too good to be true." He huffed. "I've put so much thought into us being together and what if it's not going to be good? What if something happens? I mess up a lot, Louis. I do. I'm so . . ." Harry pulled his hands out of Louis' and sat down beside him, frustrated. "I'm a baby. I've been trying to change that, I have. I've been trying to be manlier and do things men my age do, but I can't just switch off my feelings like that and be this masculine thing I'm not. You don't need that, you don't need a baby."

"I want you and everything that comes with it, Harry, not this artificial part you're trying to be," said Louis. "Is that why you had a sudden change in wardrobe? Why do you want to be like that?"

Harry shrugged and kept his head down, uncomfortable with voicing how he felt. "It's stupid."

"No it's not, don't say that."

"I'm too feminine, Lou." He shook his head and reworded. "Maybe not that, but it's like I am. I remember some bits of how I was with you when I was drunk and I don't like that. I don't want people seeing me like that. It's weird—I'm weird. And I feel too fragile and I know men handle things differently and they're so strong and tough. I just wanted to be like that," he frowned, not wanting to be judged by the person he likes so much.

Louis' hand was in Harry's hair, brushing a strand behind his ear and then lifting his face up so they could face each other. "Don't believe you have to be a certain way to be a man. You are a man, kitten. Don't feel bad for being just a little submissive. It's okay to be, it really is. It's okay to talk about it."

Harry spoke up before Louis did. "Is that what I am? I don't think I like that word."

"Well, it doesn't define you, Harry," he said, fingertips scratching lightly against Harry's scalp. "And you don't have to be that. You just like feeling . . . small sometimes, don't you?"

He couldn't help but giggle briefly, hand coming up to cover his mouth. He leaned back into Louis' hand and hummed. "That sounds cute, I like it."

"Just be who you already are. I won't pressure you into anything, promise. I know what that's like and I wouldn't do that," Louis quietly said.

Harry looked over at him. "Tell me about that. If it's okay." He can't help but be curious. He wants to know more about what made him seem so bitter and afraid of relationships.

"Ah," he sighed. "Matt. Him."

"Mhm," Harry nodded. He suddenly inched up onto the bed and crawled over to the head of the bed, patting the space beside him. Louis laughed and scooted back until he was beside Harry, who decided now was the time to cuddle him. He placed his arm around Louis' stomach and slightly pushed him down so that he could lay his head on his chest. "If you want to."

Louis started to play with Harry's hair again. "I met him after my sister Charlotte died. He was very sweet and kind, helped with the pain I felt. Guess that's one of the reasons I stuck by his side for so long. I didn't know he was like the way he was until I moved in with him. I don't know why he would be so mean, honestly. He looked at my size and body and used it for his pleasure. I'm way tougher than I'm built to be, but he just—ugh, he just viewed me as something to use for sex, it felt like. I hated it. I hate him." He accidentally gripped Harry's hair to harshly and quietly apologized, quickly soothing it over gently. "Madeline had convinced me to get out, so I did. He tells people I'm the one who was sex crazy, that bastard. He even throws my sisters death in my face!" Louis angrily said, but instantly calmed down and sadly said, "He said you would hate me once you found out I killed her."

Harry raised his head and stared up at Louis, head shaking sadly. "You didn't deserve any of that," he muttered, his hand rubbing up and down Louis' side. "He's awful. If I ever see him again, I'm gonna punch him. I will. And her death," Harry paused, trying to gather the right words. "Accidents occur, Lou. You can't blame yourself for something you couldn't have controlled. Her death was not on your hands." He frowned, not knowing if that was good enough. "I know I feel like I rushed my Mom to her deathbed sometimes and it's not a nice weight to carry. What helps is when I think about all the happy times we had, not about regrets and all of those 'should have' thoughts." Harry pursed his lips and placed his head back down on Louis' chest, sighing through his nose. "I'm not much help, I know. You can pick out some flowers from my stand and we can go visit her when we get back, if that's all right with you. Talking to my Mom there had helped me a lot." Harry placed his hand on Louis' chest. "I could never hate you," he whispered, so soft and quiet he was sure Louis didn't catch what he said.

"That'd be an awful first date," Louis laughed, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thanks for that. Uh, haven't really talked about her in a while. It was nice to let some things off my chest."

"You can talk to me about anything!" He said, upbeat. "Really. May not be too great at the talking thing, but I'm great at listening." Then he sat up and grinned. "First date? We're gonna go out?"

Louis rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's what people who like each other do, moron."

Harry sat up on his knees, too happy to lie down and stay still. "I haven't been taken out in ages. Ooh, maybe I could fix something up. I could take you to where the stars shine and buy those sandwiches you like so much and we can just sit there and admire and eat. Who doesn't love to eat, right? Could I drive your car?"

Louis placed his hands behind his head and softly smiled. "Sorry, but what if I want to be the one to treat you? I'm taking you out first, you can do the next one. And do you even have your license?"

"I do, I do. Just haven't driven since I moved to London, is all." He started to lay back down, lower lip between his teeth as he propped his elbow on the bed and rested his head on his palm. "Where you gonna take me?"

Louis sat up and quickly kissed Harry. Harry flushed and watched him get up. "That's a surprise. And I don't really know yet, we'll figure it out." He pointed to the door. "Let's go eat, I'm starving."

\+ + +

Gemma had decided to take Harry and Louis out before they had to head off in a few days. She'd said Josh was busy on their last day in California, and that she wanted a big meal together. So they're at some fancy restaurant with napkins made from cotton and two forks beside each plate. 

Harry does have manners, he's just not familiar with using the kind of manners at a top notch place. The setting is so calm and pleasing, and Harry swears he hears the sound of a waterfall nearby. He looks around the table and smiles, enjoying the way everyone was so happy and full of laughter. He wants to remember this. Even Louis, who didn't bring anything to wear but casual clothes, was enjoying himself. Harry had put on one of his shirts he hadn't worn in a while because he thought it wasn't a shirt men wore. It was a black, silky button-up with pink and red roses scattered all over it; he loved it—even Josh, who Harry pictured to be the toughest of all, said he liked the shirt and wished he had one like it. 

"What are you thinking about?"

Harry smiled and turned to look at Louis, leaning closer so that he could whisper back to him. "Just happy."

He smiled and placed his hand on Harry's knee. His breath got caught in his throat. "Good," he muttered back, squeezing his knee.

Harry inhaled deeply and picked at the napkin on the table that held a triangular form, trying to keep himself calm. He just wasn't used to this touchy attention he's receiving. He likes it; it makes his stomach flip and body tingle. But his hand didn't last there for too long, to Harry's disappointment. When Josh engaged Louis in conversation, he removed it and placed his arm on the back of Harry's chair. That also sent a weird feeling into the pit of his stomach. (Harry now realizes that he likes it so much because people can see Louis' arm around Harry's chair like that, and he wants them to. He likes the idea of people seeing that Louis is with him. Yes, he thinks to himself. Mine, mine, mine.) He may be a little tipsy. 

The night was going by beautifully. The food was amazing (especially the buttery rolls), and so was the champagne that Harry was unashamedly downing. It had a wonderfully sweet taste that he couldn't get enough of. It may have been a little obvious too, by the looks of amusement he was getting by his sister and Louis. 

"What?" He questioned with a shrug of his shoulders, downing the rest of his drink. "I like it."

Josh laughed and started to cut into his steak. "So, Louis, what made you want to become a tattoo artist?"

Harry raised his eyebrows and refilled his drink (after he finished off two glasses, Josh asked for the waiter to leave the bottle), awaiting Louis' response.

"Well, I'd always doodled and drew things, nothing major. My friend was actually the one to get me into it. Said I was talented and taught me everything I know. But basically, just got out of High School and wanted to be on my own and everything just fell into place, I guess."

"Ooh, very interesting. So you're good?" He asked.

Harry stuck out his arm and showed him the tattoo Louis did. "He did this one for me!"

"Hey, that is pretty good."

"He's good," Harry said as he nudged Louis. It looked like he was blushing; Harry loved it. 

"Thanks," he said with a laugh.

Harry had a couple more glasses of champagne during their meal, which was adding up quickly. He wasn't sure if he was the one that had drunk nearly the entire bottle or what, but he felt great. He loves champagne. He loves food. He loves life. He just loves love. He'd turned to Louis when the dessert was brought out (some type of cake with fudge and peanut butter and a strawberry on top), and got a little too close, his mouth grazing his ear. 

"I don't think I can finish that," Harry whispered.

Louis quietly laughed. "You don't have to eat it," he said back.

"But I love chocolate." 

"Then eat it."

"Help me."

Louis stared at Harry, eyes searching his. Harry felt exposed when Louis looked so deeply into his eyes, so he ducked his head into the crook of his neck and sniffed, giggling at how good he smelled and how he suddenly wished he was a rabbit so he could have a cute nose. 

Louis tugged at Harry's hair. "Sit up," he spoke, voice low. Harry did. "Eat your food. Shouldn't've had so much champagne, Harry."

Harry felt relieved that Gemma and Josh were too wrapped up in each other to focus on them. He felt the way Louis described earlier: small. "M'sorry," he apologized with a pout, poking at his cake with the tip of his fork. 

"You're okay, just eat, baby."

Harry shifted in his seat and smiled, body tingling, especially in the pit of his stomach. Baby, he thought to himself. Louis' baby. He started to eat the cake like Louis said to, not really focused on anything but how much he liked Louis calling him that. He knows he's drunk, he really does, but he doesn't mind at all. He's happy and Louis' calling him baby. 

"No one puts baby in a corner."

"Oh, you've definitely had too much to drink," Louis said as he reached out for Harry's glass, taking it away from him. "If you're quoting Dirty Dancing, that's how I know you've had enough."

Harry frowned when Louis placed water where his champagne was; he can handle his alcohol. The tip of his nose was red and his face was flushed from the champagne. He really wanted more. Harry looked over at Louis with a pouty lip and big eyes. "Pleeease."

"No, no. I said you've had too much, Harry," he said, wiping at his mouth with his napkin.

Harry frowned when he wasn't called baby. "Baby."

Louis raised a brow. "Did you just call me a...?"

"No, you didn't call me that," he sighed out, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his palm.

Louis shook his head and spoke to Gemma and Josh about how thankful he was for the meal, but that he should get Harry back before he throws a tantrum in his drunken state. They all stood up to leave as Josh paid for the meal. He had taken his car, but Louis suggested him and Harry take a taxicab back so that he could be alone with him. Harry actually liked that idea because he didn't want to be with anyone but Louis, at the moment. 

Harry had his arm around Louis' shoulder, his other hand playing with his hair to mess with him as they both walked to the taxi Louis called for. "Such soft hair," he said, giggling when he started to pet it. "Soft bear."

Louis sat Harry in the car. "Buckle up."

Harry shook his head.

"Harry, buckle up."

He laid his head back and pretended to ignore him, until he felt the belt strap tighten around his torso; he jumped when Louis' hand touched his thigh to buckle him. "We can't have the sex here."

"The?" Louis laughed with a shake of his head. "We're not, baby, was just keeping you safe." He shut the door and walked to the other side to get in, sitting closely beside Harry.

Harry really liked being taken care of like that, so he leaned his head on Louis' shoulder and told him about all of his silly thoughts that were traveling through his mind. Louis listened and kept calling him baby, which he found out Harry liked soon enough. He felt safe. He felt warm and bubbly and happy all at once, and he didn't want that feeling to ever go away. He wanted Louis to always be by his side like that and not make fun of him when he's drunk and feels small. Louis took care of him. Harry will take care of Louis, too. He will make sure he's happy and okay at all times, and let him know that he doesn't have to be afraid of loving again because he won't hurt him. They'll take care of each other.


	33. ✿26✿

It was time to go, Harry knew that; he just didn't want to. He'd miss Gemma and Josh, who he'd grown very fond of. It could be years until he sees them again, so he makes sure that the hug he gives her is a long one. If his mother's death didn't open his eyes before, then Louis' story about his sister certainly did. Harry has always loved Gemma, but he never had shown it too often. He first hugged Josh (who'd surprisingly got out of work on time to say good-bye), gave him a few pats on the back and saying, "if you hurt her, I'll kill you," in the most threatening tone he could muster up. 

"If I hurt her, I'll let you kill me," Josh said back.

Harry laughed and moved on to Gemma, who he grasped tightly and firmly. He didn't know how long the hug lasted, but that it felt so homely and familiar. He held on to that feeling, even after they parted. Gemma appeared to be crying, which had Harry kissing her forehead sweetly. "Such a softie," he muttered jokingly.

She lightly hit his shoulder. "Oh, hush up, now. You better come visit soon. With your boyfriend."

Harry flushed and shyly laughed. "He's not my . . ." He trailed off, soon to clear his throat and hug her once more. Louis had to grab his hand and practically pull him away from them, saying that they'd miss the flight if they waited any longer. Harry waved and pouted and frowned and kept looking back until he couldn't see them anymore. 

\+ + +

"I can't believe it's over," Harry said with a frown once he was settled with Louis. Josh bought Louis a ticket back with Harry, thankfully. He looked out the window, staring at the cloudy sky as California was slipping away. "Felt like I just got there."

Louis grabbed Harry's hand and poked at his shoulder. "But you had a nice time. And I'm certain you missed Liam and Niall, too."

Harry suddenly widened his eyes and turned to Louis. "Oh my God! They don't know!" He loudly said, but then quieted down to a whisper. "They don't know what happened between us."

"They don't?" Louis laughed out, but snatched Harry's phone when he pulled it out. "No way, we're not telling them now. Let's just act like it's normal for us to be holding hands and kissing in front of them."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and thought on it, wondering if it would be funny to mess with them like that. Possibly. He normally wouldn't try that; he was planning on just blowing the group chat up with messages about what's happened, but Louis' idea seemed fun and interesting. They would be getting there pretty late, though, so he doubted they'd stay up for him. 

"Fine," he finally said to Louis, who started messing around with his phone. "Wanna stay over?"

He blinked quickly and shrugged, hesitantly looking up at Harry. "What for?"

"My apartment's closer. You could, like, crash on the sofa, if you wanted," Harry quietly said, shyly messing with his hands.

Louis smiled, Harry's phone still in his hands. "No, that's fine, H. I kinda miss my bed. And, you know, we just started this thing between us, and I don't think we should . . . yet." Harry had looked away out of embarrassment, which had Louis reaching out for his hand. "Not that I don't want to. Just wanna be smart. Should take you out before we stay at each other's houses, I think."

Harry slouched. "But I've stayed over at your house. We haven't exactly done things the normal type of way, why start now?"

He reached out to stroke Harry's hair. "Look at me." Harry did reluctantly. "It's only because I want to do everything right, okay? Nothing against you, or us. I'm trying to be romantic here," Louis expressed, hints of sarcasm in his voice. That made Harry crack a small smile and lean his head into Louis' hand.

"Okay," he muttered with a smile. Louis started to play with his hair and he let him, because he liked the feeling of someone running their fingers through his hair and giving him that type of attention. So Louis kept at it.

"Good. Now, what's this game?" Louis asked, raising the phone up to Harry's face. 

Harry laughed and leaned over the armrest, tapping on the app Louis was talking about. When it popped up, he explained that you had to try and match the flowers to the person, and if you gave them the right type, and got the needed points, then you won the game. Louis soon got the hang of it and played by himself, keeping one hand in Harry's hair like he wanted. Sometime during the sounds of annoyance Louis would make when he got something wrong on the game, and the hair caressing, Harry had drifted off to sleep happily. 

\+ + +

"Are you sure you don't want to come over?" Harry asked once more as soon as they got their luggage. The flight home was peaceful and fun, surprisingly. Much better than the last time he'd flown by himself; now he can see why some people like it. If they're with their loved ones, it totally makes it better. Especially the whole kissing-in-public thing. Made Harry feel so bubbly and spaced out. 

"Yes, I'm sure," Louis responded, playfully rolling his back of luggage towards Harry's feet.

Harry was quick to scoot out of the way, but then Louis turned and started chasing him, the suitcase on his heels. Harry was laughing and screeching and trying to lose him, but every time he thought he did, Louis found him. He decided to make a run for the exit, struggling with his own luggage and not wanting to accidentally hurt anyone. When he was near the doors, though, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and he instantly stilled with a pout. 

"Got ya," Louis huffed, out of breath.

Harry giggled and turned around in his arms, cupping Louis' jaw and kissing him sweetly and quickly. He pulled back and blushed when he stared at Louis, who had an admiring look on his face. It made Harry's heart swell; he ducked out of view to pick up the suitcase he dropped.

"That's new," spoke a familiar voice.

They both looked to where the voice came from. Harry widened his eyes and Louis laughed, finding the situation amusing. Liam stood with Harry's name on a sign, which was written out in bold lettering. That made him smile.

"Liam! I was gonna take a cab home so that you wouldn't have to get me," Harry said, walking over to him to give him a hug.

Liam smiled and patted Harry's back. "Missed you too much. Niall fell asleep in the car, though, that wanker."

He laughed and gave Liam a tight squeeze before pulling away. Liam and Louis exchanged looks, and Harry expected Liam to start going off on him, but was surprised when they just shook hands. 

"Everything worked out, then?" Liam asked Louis.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows; Louis glanced to him and smiled, before saying, "Yeah, Payno, worked out." Then they hugged.

"Hm," Harry hummed to himself in surprise when they hugged. Liam turned and walked to Harry, grabbing his things. "Payno?" He questioned; Liam only shrugged. "Pft," he muttered; he wasn't jealous. Louis seemed to sense Harry's change in behavior and stepped closer to him, grabbing his hand and asking what was wrong. "Nothing, nothing . . . Not that I want a cool nickname like that, or anything."

Louis laughed. "What about Hazza?"

"That doesn't sound cool! Sounds renaissance-y."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll think of a new one while you're at home. Sleeping. So go; go sleep. It's late."

Harry sighed and nodding, whispering, "fine" underneath his breath as he wrapped his arms tightly around Louis for a goodbye hug. "Will you come over tomorrow, though?" Harry asked. "'Cause I wanna be around you and stuff. You know, like. I just . . . you know."

"I'll be around, sure," Louis softly spoke, hands rubbing up and down Harry's back.

"M'gonna kiss you goodnight now."

Louis didn't have time to get in another word when Harry placed his mouth on his. They kissed shortly, but importantly. That's the word Harry would use to describe it: important. Every kiss was, and this one was no different than the previous ones they had sneaked on the plane. His stomach would feel up with that tingly feeling every time, and it wouldn't go away. Kissing Louis was like everything bad had stopped, in those little moments, and everything great began. It was only a goodnight kiss, but to Harry, it meant that there would be more. No goodbye's this time. Louis was going to stay and not push him away. Louis was going to kiss him and hold him. Harry had gotten into the car with those thoughts in his head, squishing next to Niall who was snoring and drooling, and even nestled his head on Harry's shoulder at some point. Only months and months of pining could make Harry so sure about what he felt.

He is completely and wholeheartedly in love with Louis Tomlinson.


	34. ❁27❁

He knew they would be all over him and asking a lot of questions. Harry was preparing for that when he woke up at three in the afternoon, jet-lagged beyond belief. That would be the only reason why Louis hadn't responded back to Harry; he's probably tired, too. 

Harry just gave Liam and Niall his phone so that they could look at videos and pictures he'd taken on his trip while he made himself a snack. It was nearing around six o'clock, and he couldn't help but feel bad for missing Louis already. He wants to spend time with his friends and can't exactly do that with his brain always so LouisLouisLouis. It really didn't help that he'd come to terms with his true feelings for him, either. He just realized he's in love and wants to be with the one he adores so much. And he didn't know if he should keep it to himself or tell Louis his feelings. Was love always this complicated?

"My aesthetic," Niall said, holding the phone to Liam's face. 

Liam stared at the picture and grunted, "It's just a burger."

"Burger's are what I find pleasing to look at, Liam."

"You know what I find pleasing to look at?" Liam asked. "Your mum."

"I will shove my fist up your ass if you say that one more time. It's no longer funny."

"Buy a sense of humor, will you?"

"I'm on a strict budget of no."

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped into the living room, plopping himself down on the floor with his back resting against Niall's knees. "You both are children." He sighed happily though, letting his head fall back on Niall's leg. "I've missed you two. And Niall," he spoke, "I found your filthy sock in my pillowcase. Care to explain how it got there?"

"Not really," he quickly replied.

"'Bout right," Harry muttered.

"Hey, you haven't told us about what happened yet," Liam said.

Harry knew what he was talking about. He smiled as he munched on his chips, swallowing before he could reply. "Right, right," he'd said. He told them everything that had happened between them, leaving out Louis' personal information because it wasn't his place to tell. They had been sweet about it, telling Harry how happy they were for him and giving him a few teasing nudges when he mentioned kissing. He didn't expect them to be so supportive, but was pleased nonetheless by the reaction. He even felt his heart swoon telling the story about Louis showing up like that; it truly was romantic. 

"Did you guys do it?" Niall asked.

Harry instantly flushed and hit Niall's foot. "Niall, no! Gosh . . . no."

"Just askin', sheesh. I would've. Not that I wanna do it with Louis, God no."

Harry crinkled his nose up and stared down at his sandwich, the thought of Louis and Niall going at it etched into his brain; he felt sick. He held the plate up to Niall and gave it to him, knowing he'd be willing to eat it (which he was). It wasn't too long after Harry had picked out a movie from Netflix that a buzzing noise sounded from near the door. He dropped the remote and tried to get to it first, but Liam beat him to it. 

"Louis, yeah, c'mon up," Liam spoke.

Harry felt his heart leap in his chest. He squealed and took off into the bathroom, trying to quickly brush his teeth to get the taste of sour cream and onion chips out of his mouth. Once he was done with that, he ran his hands through his hair a few times, trying to get it looking at least a little decent. But as soon as he did, he took off into the living room and sat down in his previous position, but making sure a pillow was laid down so that his butt wouldn't go numb. He crossed his legs and licked his lips, ignoring the eyes on him as he waited for Louis to come in.

The door opened.

"Paaayno," Harry heard Louis say.

"Tommmo."

There was laughter, and then Liam said, "Harry's in the living room. We were just about to watch How to Steal a Million. Some old movie Harry likes."

"Audrey Hepburn? I'm down for anything she's in."

They both finally entered the living room, and Harry felt like he stopped breathing. Louis' clothes were his normal attire, but his hair. Harry expected it to be how he usually wore it: flat on his head. But no, it was in the most adorable quiff. And his hair was getting long and it just made Harry's heart faint. I'm so in love, he thought to himself.

Louis smiled at Harry and sat down on the floor beside him, nudging his side with his elbow and scooting thigh-touching close. "I like your pajama's."

Harry smiled and felt his face heat up. "I like the moon," he said, referring to his soft pajama sweats that had crescent moon's scattered all over it. 

Louis only laughed at Harry's reply, which had him smiling nervously. "I like you."

I love you.

"Someone play the movie before I vomit," Niall muttered. 

Harry looked over at him and stuck his tongue out. He grabbed the remote and started to play the movie. Louis leaned his head over and placed his chin on Harry's shoulder; he stilled, keeping his eyes on the movie in the dark room. This seemed unusually intimate. 

"Sorry I didn't text you back," Louis whispered. "As soon as I woke up, I came over here."

Harry smiled and looked down. "It's okay. Did you sleep well?"

"Mhm."

Something about the way Louis hummed so close to his ear made Harry's stomach flip. "V-very good, then. Glad. I'm glad."

It was quiet for a moment as they watched Nicole and her father speak in his secret art room on the television screen, until Louis said, "Liam and Niall are, like, cuddling." Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding why that information was relevant. "Think they would notice if we made out a little?"

Harry looked at Louis, mouth opening in surprise when he mentioned it. He glanced over to his friends to see that they were both very into the movie and cuddled up with a blanket over them. Harry supposes they wouldn't mind if they didn't know. But he still wasn't sure; he wasn't for making out in front of his friends and being that kind of guy that everyone dislikes. He only shrugged as his answer.

"Baby. I dreamt about kissing you."

Harry slouched a little, only because he was melting. Nothing major. "Did you?"

"Yeah," Louis said, resting his cheek on Harry's shoulder. "We were on that plane, but making out in the bathroom together. It was nice and it made me want to kiss you a lot. Your lips are nice. Pretty. Smooth. I like them."

"Oh, dear," Harry muttered to himself. The room suddenly got very hot.

"They won't see."

Harry really didn't need much convincing. He turned his head and placed his forehead against Louis', staring, but then Louis firmly pressed their lips together and deeply kissed him. It seemed awfully sexual, by how he was kissing with such desperation. Harry tried to match that, but was too taken aback. He only pulled away to giggle when their noses bumped. He started to rub his nose against Louis' after that, finding it cute. Louis placed a hand on Harry's jawline to keep him from moving so that he could kiss his nose. Harry felt so warm on the inside; he just wanted to snuggle up to Louis stay with him forever. So that's what he did, after they made out like Louis wanted; Harry laid his head down on his lap and nearly cried out of joy when he felt Louis' hands in his hair. He wasn't just playing with it, though, he was braiding it. Absentmindedly braiding it and he just couldn't be anymore happier than he was in that moment.

\+ + +

Harry had fallen asleep and didn't quite realize it until he noticed the movie was no longer on, and that Liam and Louis were talking quietly. He pretended to sleep, not wanting to interrupt, but also wanting to eavesdrop on what they'd talk about. So far it was only football; Harry didn't watch much of football so he couldn't really go understand most of it. Not worth remembering, either. But suddenly the room got too quiet. An awkward silence. 

"So you two are a couple, right?" Liam asked.

Harry held his breath. 

"I made a mistake of not quite asking that yet. I only assumed and I can't assume that, not without getting the words out. M'gonna ask on our date, 'cause I know Harry's a sap."

That's true.

"Where you gonna take him for the date?"

"Ahh," Louis said, pausing. Harry's face was practically digging into Louis' crotch so he couldn't see face him. Louis placed a hand on his arm and rubbed his thumb over the soft skin. "Keeping that a secret, even from you."

Liam laughed. "Fair enough. Just take care of him."

"I will."

Goosebumps rose on Harry's skin. He hoped it would pass as him only being cold, and not because of the way Louis said I will. He could hear the smile in his voice, the fondness and admiration and it made him want to tackle Louis with all his love and cling to him without ever letting go. 

There was movement and rustling, then feet padding off and a door closing. Liam left. Louis stayed, continuing to rub Harry's arm so gently until his hand moved to his hair, tucking some behind his ear. "Love, wake up."

Harry was lightly nudged, which made him feign a mumbling, incoherent noise and flop around so that his nose was touching Louis' lower stomach. Louis faintly tensed before relaxing; Harry guessed it was because his head was moving too close to his private parts. "No," he quietly said. 

Louis let out a quiet, breathy laugh. "Gonna sleep like this, are you? Surely that's not comfortable."

Harry put his arm around Louis' stomach to prove how comfortable he was. "Too comfy."

"Okay, okay . . . But what about me, then? This floor made my butt numb over an hour ago. I'm not comfortable."

Harry grumbled a few more words. It wasn't that he was truly sleepy; this whole charade was only because he knew that if Louis moved, he'd soon be moving out the door. It's late. But he frowned, not knowing what to do. "Stay."

"Even when I'm this uncomfortable—?"

"No," Harry said, frustrated and sitting up finally. He moved closer to Louis and rested his head on his shoulder. "Just stay here longer. I know it's late, but . . ."

"I can do that. I can do that on the couch, where me bum and I can sit comfortably."

Harry giggled and kissed his cheek, standing up after and then backing onto the couch. Louis stood up too, slowly, and then plopped down beside him. He was quick to curl up against Louis, unable to help himself. "Kinda want to suffocate you in hugs and stuff."

Louis put his arm around the younger boy's shoulder. "Why's that?"

"Because I . . . " He paused. "I like you so much and my heart and body wants to absorb a lot of Louis because it likes to show affection and it can't get enough of Louis and it's like it's just hungry for some Louis and won't be satisfied until I cuddle him so hard."

"Well, Louis thinks that Harry's being too cute to handle, so he wouldn't mind being suffocated."

Harry looked up at Louis and felt like exploding. He'd remember when he would feel this not too long ago, where he wanted to touch Louis and just feel him like he is right now, but couldn't. Now he can and Louis wants him to. Harry can't believe it. He can't believe he gets to show how much he cares for him without having to hold back. Somewhere, deep in the back of his brain, he stored daydreams of scenarios like this, where he's himself and wanting Louis' attention and body to attack in tight hugs, but his mind had always twisted the scene into Louis saying that he wouldn't because he's not a baby. But Louis didn't say that. He didn't. He's being so nice and sweet and allowing Harry to express his feelings however he wanted. 

He could've spoken all that he was thinking right there, but he didn't. He just nuzzled his face in the place Louis' neck meets his shoulder, and clung to him. "Can you stay here until I fall asleep? Is that too much to ask? Are you sleepy?"

Louis silently laughed. "I can stay until you fall asleep. But you should fall asleep in your room, not here."

And that's how they ended up in his bed, with Harry's head back on Louis' lap because Louis didn't want to lay down. He played with his hair again. It calmed Harry down and relaxed him a lot. And then they talked. They talked for God know's how long, until Harry got too tired and just listened to Louis' soft voice fill his ears. Louis sang again, probably absentmindedly; he sang quietly and so faintly, but Harry could hear it and made a mental note to tell Louis how good of a singer he was tomorrow. Then he slept. He slept for so long, and he dreamed happy things and dreamed that Louis had stayed the whole night (even though he waited for a good while after Harry was asleep to slip out of the room and go home), and Harry loves him. He loves him so much and he's sort of afraid of his feelings, but also so joyed because he's in love and nothing he's felt has ever felt like this.


	35. 27½

The thing about Harry is that he is so kind. The kindest thing ever to walk this earth, really. So Louis knows Harry wouldn't be anything but sweet doing whatever he planned for their first date, even if it was just a slow walk in the city for ice cream. Harry wouldn't complain. Usually (and he hates to even think this) he would take advantage of that kindness and go somewhere extremely cheap; but, again, this is Harry. He doesn't want to be that way with him. It's an odd thing to stress about a date like he has—he's never done it before, but then again, he's never had feelings like this before. Maybe everyone has a different type of feeling with a different person. He didn't feel this with Matt, Donny, or Oliver—this feeling of excitement and nervousness and queasiness all in one. (He also never Googled 'Romantic Things to do in London' because he never stressed about dates. Some people had the talent of patience, or balance—his was dates. At least, he thought it was until now.) 

Google wasn't very helpful. He'd scroll and scroll through different pages, each of them mentioning the London Eye or an expensive French restaurant (thanks, Google), but that all seemed so . . . typical. He wanted to be extravagant and unique. Then, he realized, if he wanted to be unique, he'd have to leave London. So he began to look up places out of London.

The Lake District. He read about the place, saw it was just a lake and mountains and woods, assumed Harry wouldn't like such a scary place at night, and kept scrolling.

Cornwall. Beautiful. He remembered going there when he was younger, but didn't fancy eating seafood and dragging Harry down trails he walked on as a child.

Frustrated, he shut his computer and tapped his forefinger on top of it. He needed to do something special. He had to. And he wanted to, of course; he decided to call Liam.

"Liam," Louis said after they greeted each other. "I need your help."

"All right, what is it?"

"This may sound a bit strange, but I need to know where Harry's been taken on his dates."

There was pause. "That is strange. Why?"

"Because I'm having trouble thinking up something creative for our first date and I need some confidence. Please tell me his other first dates were absolute crap and nothing special."

Liam sighed. "One time he was on a date with a boy who saved someone's life. A lady was choking on her food and the guy came in and did the Heimlich maneuver. Harry said it was one of the most amazing nights of his life."

Louis groaned and stood up, scratching his head. "You couldn't humor me and tell me not to stress out? That all of his dates were awful? Now I have to compete with a superhero!"

"Louis, look. Harry doesn't care what happens on the date, just as long as he's with you. He doesn't need flashy things or tons of chocolates, he just likes knowing someone cares for him. Just show him you care, and he'll love it. Okay? Was that what you needed?"

"Yeah," Louis nodded, mind racing with thoughts. "Yeah, thanks. I'll do that."

He hung up and paced around for a moment, evening his breaths out, before it hit him. He put on his shoes and ran out the door.

\+ + +

Harry was dressed so beautifully. He had on a sheer, pale pink shirt (of course it was a button-up. Louis' starting to believe that's all Harry owns), that was giving him such a soft look. The pale pink made his skin glow, believe it or not, and made his eyes pop. And because it was sheer, he could faintly see the outline of his dark tattoos beneath it. He now believes Harry is the epitome of ethereal, dressed like this. Even Harry's long hair seemed curlier than usual that just added to his delicate look.

Louis couldn't process so much beauty in one glance.

He wanted to touch him, kiss his soft fingertips and bite at the bare skin peeking through the unbuttoned part of his shirt. He never felt so overwhelmed by such beauty before; Louis' nervous. He checks his outfit constantly, hoping he looks good enough. Harry said he looked wonderful. He bought new clothes for tonight, ditching the graphic t-shirts and tank-tops, and going for a white button-up (Harry's apparently rubbing off on him) and a navy blue cardigan. He kept the cardigan unbuttoned because he felt way too proper. This style was not something he went for; he's normally comfortable in the simpler styled clothes, maybe a decent shirt here and there, but nothing this extreme. (He also knows that this outfit isn't extreme, per se, but for someone who wears black on a daily basis, he figures he's allowed to use that word.)

Harry was confused when they entered a record store, but didn't say anything. Louis was going to hint things at him, wait until he realizes where they are, but when he didn't, he had dragged him over to the back corner of the store, where the cheapest records were. Louis stared, waiting for the recognition of it all, but when it didn't settle in his features, he huffed and went to mess with his lip piercing, only to realize he'd taken it out for tonight. He felt panicked. He had thought everything out to a T, but didn't quite plan on Harry forgetting the second place they bumped into each other. The first one wasn't so romantic, but this one wasn't so bad.

He remembered they both reached for the same record at the same time, only to pull away. Louis was planning on arguing and snatching the record, but Harry was spewing out so many apologies that he couldn't get a word out. He thought, "this boy seems roughly familiar."

"I know you," he'd said.

Harry had stopped talking and looked at Louis, brows furrowed in confusion. Louis thought he'd looked like a perplexed bunny. "I'm sorry?" Harry had replied.

It had finally hit Louis, and he pointed an accusing finger. "Yeah! You're that dude from that one store. You were sick, remember?" He shook his head. "Oi, what are the odds."

Harry suddenly remembered and he was smiling, sticking his hand out for Louis to shake. Louis stared at the hand and had cleared his throat, instead reaching for the record. "I see you like The Penguins."

Harry had shaken his head. "No! My . . . my grandmother likes them and I was . . . just, like. Well. Doesn't matter. You can take it, I'll just look around."

Louis didn't do nice, not then. He would've taken the record and bought it for himself, not giving a single care about it. But even then, Harry seemed to have some kind of effect on him. He had let Harry have it that day. 

Now, here they stand, in the exact same place they were so many months ago. Louis watched Harry thumb around at some of the records, even removing some from the sleeve to check for scratches since they were used. 

"Once upon a time," Louis started, breaking the silence and catching Harry's attention. "There were two boys that had found there way in this exact store. Some like to believe it was a coincidence, but others like to believe it was fate. The cute and nice one was, well—cute and nice. He was willing to let the rude and tempered boy leave with the album his grandmother wished to have. That rude and tempered boy declined." Harry placed his hand over his mouth, remembering. "That wasn't his style, either. He was all about taking and getting what he wanted, but there was something about that nice boy."

"Louis—"

Louis kept going; Harry was reaching for him with a wide smile, hands roaming over Louis' chest and neck. "Who would've known they'd be back, months later, on their first date. And the rude boy didn't feel so rude anymore, didn't feel the need to defend himself from the accusing world, because that cute and nice one had opened his eyes. Really. Opened his eyes about the small, sweet things. Like flowers. And kind acts. And—"

Harry kissed him. Louis was trying to continue his story, words muffled against Harry's lips, which had him laughing and pulling away. Louis kissed the corner of his mouth and booped his nose. 

"I—you're so . . . amazing," Harry spoke breathlessly.

He looked flushed and so fond. Louis shook his head, hands cramming into his pockets absently as he looked at the albums in the boxes, not used to a compliment such as that. And Harry's intense fond look was going to make Louis blush, he felt it. He reached out for a record and tugged it out, staring at the artist he'd never heard of, and then looking back to Harry. "Find something you want and we'll go listen to it."

A look of excitement rushed over Harry's features, and he looked determined, eyes roaming around the store. He started sifting through albums, poking around and trying to find the record he'd like. After some time (Louis realized Harry was picky about good records), he'd chosen a Best Hits record from the 50s. He bought it, trusting Harry's music choice, and then they made their way out of the store.

As Louis started walking him to their next location, he could see the constant itch Harry got to ask where they would be going. But he never spoke, just held Louis' hand and walked quietly. Louis talked about some music he'd wanted to check out, trying to keep him from getting too curious. That's how it went, the walk. Random, light conversation. Louis slipped in a few jokes when he could and got to listen to that loud, captivating laugh; when Harry laughed hard, he would close his eyes and bend over and really cackle. It was the most adorable thing to watch.

Louis decided not to leave London and chose to focus on the beauty it has to offer. In walking distance, of course. London was beautiful at night (if you avoided all the drunks). It really came alive. People were busying themselves, either in a hurry to catch up with friends or taking a stroll and keeping to themselves. There was always a murmur of voices around you; it would be hard to feel alone if you just stood and took it all in. It was windy (not that annoying type of wind), the night was cool, and he had a wonderful boy on his arm. It couldn't get better than that. 

Then they arrived. The park was quite dim, save the occasional lampposts, but it oddly set the mood of the evening just right. He saw it from where he stood, their destination. He made sure to get it right. The tree on the slight incline of the ground overlooked the pond, which held a large fountain that released water with colored lights, making the water appear a blue or a pink. It was nice. The tree Louis had some difficulty with. It was rather hard wrapping the lights and making sure they stayed in place and continued to stay lit, but the troublesome thing was definitely worth it. 

Harry saw it, and gasped, but didn't speak until Louis walked him to the tree. "What—"

Louis nudged Madeline once he saw her, who was supposed to be guarding the picnic and anyone else who wanted to sit there. She got up with a quick apology and hurried away like Louis told her she should or there'd be not one, but two feet up her ass if she stayed to converse. Harry said hi, but laughed when she kept walking.

That's when he saw the picnic basket. 

He immediately sat on the ground (where a soft blanket was) and opened the box, the lights on the tree illuminating enough light to see. "Whoa," he whispered.

Louis stood, hands in his pockets as he stared hesitantly at Harry. He'd never done so much for a first date and felt slightly embarrassed. What if it was too over the top?

"This is amazing!" Harry shouted.

Louis relaxed with a laugh and pulled the record he bought out of the bag. (He won't admit that he borrowed a portable record player, nope.) He lowered down, unlatched the record player that resembled a suitcase, made sure it was plugged in where the lights went, and then pulled the record out of its sleeve. He turned the dial to make it come on, and once the flight flicked on, he'd placed the record in the turntable and delicately placed the needle over it. Louis adjusted the sound and smiled to himself; he knew this song. Chances Are by Johnny Mathis. He turned around to find Harry staring at him and nervously smiled, walking over to him and plopping down as gracefully as he could beside him.

It was quiet between them for a moment, Johnny's soft voice floating in the wind and creating a lovely peace. Then, Louis said, "I didn't know if you enjoyed this kind of stuff."

Harry drew his brows in briefly, then smiled. "How do you mean?"

Louis shrugged, leaning back on his palms and looking at the side of Harry's face. "Like, the surprise and sentiment of it all. I don't know. I'm not very creative; haven't saved a choking woman before."

Harry turned his head to look at Louis. "Choking woman? Why do you say that?"

"No reason, no reason," he quickly rushed out, offering an innocent smile. "But this is . . . okay?"

Harry laughed. "Yes! Oh my god, yes. This . . . Louis, I can see just how much thought you put into every detail and it warms my heart so much. I didn't take you as much of a sap before, but this? A whole new side is peeking through and I really like it," he said, waving a finger and then jabbing it against Louis' shoulder.

Louis shook his head. "Just wanted to do something nice for you," he mumbled.

"It's beautiful. I love it." Harry inched closer and placed his head on Louis' shoulder; Louis laughed. "Now I need to see what my sap made up for us. I'm hungry." Louis parted his lips to speak, but Harry shushed him. "Sh, listen. My stomach is trying to communicate. Do you hear that?" A loud, deep grumble sounded out and Harry sat up to place his hands over his stomach, blushing. "Oh, gosh!"

Louis snorted and reached for the basket across from Harry, dragging it towards him and opening the flaps to the basket. "I present you," Louis started, reaching into the basket and pulling out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "The finest PB-and-J sandwich in all of London," he spoke in a posh voice, mocking a waiter. "Our cooks don't prepare it by putting peanut butter on one side of the bread and jam on the other, no, but by mixing it in the best of bowls using the nicest of spoons."

Harry nodded, going along with the act. "Sounds delicious. Are there any specials?"

Louis grinned, pointing his finger at Harry. "So glad you asked!" He pulled out some packaged cookies he picked up from the store and set it out. "Tasty, homemade bundles of delight, those are." He placed his hand on side of his face. "Better than me Nan's, if I'm honest. And to wash it all down, we have . . . Yes, we have juice boxes." Louis pulled out the pack of apple juice and set it aside, tugging out chips and napkins to join the food on the blanket. He looked over the food and laughed quietly, scratching the back of his head, not goofing around anymore. "Is this okay?"

Harry reached for a juice box and scooted his back against the tree, jamming his straw inside the box and sucking up the apple juice. He nodded and hummed around the straw. "Of course! I love this. I really do. And these are my favorite kind of sandwiches." He leaned forward and tugged Louis back by placing a hand on his shoulder, kissing his cheek. "Thank you."

Louis felt his cheeks heat up and suddenly felt thankful for the dim lighting. He handed Harry a sandwich and took one for himself, joining Harry by placing his back against the large tree and looking at the water fountain ahead of them. It was quiet; a nice quiet. The record was still playing and he didn't really feel the need to speak. He felt like it would actually ruin the moment between them, and for a while, they kept silent. Until Louis started to get curious about Harry. There were always basic questions to ask on dates: What do your parents do? Do you have any siblings? Where do you work? Louis knew most of those. Harry's mother is dead, he can't ask about parents. And he knows Gemma. And they practically work together. Louis felt stumped. Until he remembered that Harry has a Dad. He'd never mentioned a father before—at least Louis can't recall it. 

"Harry?" Louis said.

"Hm?"

Louis picked at his bread and glanced over to Harry, who was staring at the fountain with a faint smile on his face. "What's your Dad do? Like, does he live far off? You never mention him."

Harry went stiff. Louis stared, watching as Harry looked down at his juice box and held a frown. Louis wished he didn't ask. "Um, he's—he doesn't do anything. We don't talk—haven't talked to him since I was a kid. And he's in prison, anyway, so . . . Yeah."

Louis placed his hand over Harry's, giving it a light squeeze for comfort; Harry thanked him with a forced smile. "I'm sorry I brought it up, we don't have to talk about it."

Harry shook his head. "No, no. It's fine. You should know, I guess. He just wasn't a nice man, is all you need to know, really."

Louis smiled, trying to cheer Harry up. "My Dad used to be a clown."

He turned his head and widened his eyes, laughing. "No way! Really?"

Louis nodded. "Yup. The outfit was always so bulky and the face paint was so disturbing to look at sometimes, but he used to be a clown."

"Amazing."

"Not amazing! Scarring, is what it is."

Harry laughed. "Nah."

Louis nudged him. "Yeah. You try growing up with a Dad that has more makeup than your Mom. You just can't un-see things."

"Couldn't have been that bad."

Louis shrugged and reached for some juice. "Dunno, but it scarred me. Creepy ass clown's."

Lighthearted conversation rolled through between them once again, but Louis started to learn more things about Harry the more they talked. Harry loves to cook, apparently. And he lived with his grandmother for a few years before taking up the flower business. Liam was a childhood friend and Niall was someone who answered their ad online for a new roommate. Louis couldn't believe Niall wasn't apart of the picture until only a few years ago. It seemed like they'd been friends their entire lives. Harry spoke of his ambitions and fears; he talked about how he once touched a girls boob in Primary school because he was pressured into it, and then burst into tears because he didn't like that she had swollen parts. He then made a joke about how he preferred the swollen parts in the lower region; Louis only laughed out of pity (it was a really bad joke).

They actually talked for God knows how long. They kissed. They held hands. And somewhere in between all of that, they danced to the 50s music. Louis wasn't much of a dancer, so they basically just clutched each other and swayed until they wanted to eat the cookies. Harry, he realized, is the most captivating and beautiful man he's ever met. He's got awful jokes and he blushes so easily and Louis loves every bit of it. It was like they were both drunk as they were walking home, laughing at silly things and feeling so high and mighty. It was one of the best nights of Louis' life and he'd never forget it; he felt so happy. Something the old Louis would have never thought could happen. But this is joy. He feels joy. He feels joy in holding hands with Harry as they walked home. 

"You should know that I'm your boyfriend now." Louis could have asked him that differently, but it also seemed strangely perfect. It wasn't official, but it didn't have to be with that word. 

Harry replied, "You should know that I have been telling my grandmother you were my boyfriend anyway. She'd like to meet you, by the way."

Louis was flattered. "What a nice lady. I enjoyed talking to her that one time on the phone. I wanna meet her too."

Harry smiled and Louis held his hand even tighter, but when Harry's building came into view, he loosened his grip. He didn't want the night to end. He wanted to selfishly beg Harry to run off with him for the entire night just so that the feeling inside of him wouldn't slip away. Louis didn't say that, though, because they had responsibilities and jobs to get to in the morning. 

Louis was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Harry had stopped walking until his hand was tugged back. He turned, confused, and a pang of worry hit his chest. Harry's features were twisted, contorted into sadness and anger and confusion and fear. So much fear. Louis followed his gaze, squinting at the body leaning against Harry's apartment building, and eyeing him up and down. He had little to no hair and had a pudgy stomach, a scar on his right eyebrow, but similar green eyes to the ones Harry have.

Louis pieced it together when he heard Harry let out a weak, quiet word.

"Dad?"


	36. ✿28✿

Louis was standing in front of Harry in just seconds, protectively shielding his boyfriend from the man who had caused so much pain to Harry and Gemma. He was thankful for that and gladly stayed behind Louis, his hands clutching the back of his cardigan tightly. It was such a wonderful night and Harry was so loved up, he didn't think anything bad could ever happen. And then this happens. His father still has that dirty, slimy look to him. He'd gained weight, but there was a certain glint in his eyes that made him appear so much stronger than he'd ever been. Harry was taller, that's for sure, but he felt so small in his presence. This has to be a bad dream. 

"Harry," he said, the word tainted by his thin, colorless lips. 

He never wanted to hear his name come from him again. 

His Dad stepped closer, but Louis (thank God for Louis), held his hand out defensively, his other hand making its way behind his back to grasp a part of Harry, keeping them as far apart as he could. 

Harry was staring, still so shocked. He hadn't seen his father since he was cuffed and sent off to prison, where he thought he would be for the rest of his life. He suddenly can't remember how long he was sent to prison for. Did he escape? Why is he here? Thoughts were attacking him, minimizing his entire being as memories flooded into his brain, memories he thought he forgot. He inhaled sharply from lack of breath, his chest pinching at his heart. It suddenly felt like his lungs were closing up. Then he felt it. He felt everything; he felt his father's fingers on his small body, imprinting his skin in the ugliest of ways. He heard the low whispers in his hear, telling him he'd be next, and then he choked on air. Harry didn't want to cry, not in front of his Dad; he'd enjoy that too much. So he focused on his breath and clung to Louis, pulling him closer. Louis was speaking but there was such a loud ringing in his ears that he couldn't make out a word. 

Louis turned to Harry and cupped his face. Harry saw snake-like eyes everywhere he looked; he shut his eyes and shook his head, hoping to shake the thoughts away, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Louis standing in front of him, combing his hands through his hair and telling him how to breathe. Harry tried, but when he did, he knew he couldn't, not with his father lingering there. He looked away from Louis and stared over him, expecting to see Cal, but when he only saw a building, he panicked. 

"Louis," he finally spoke, looking around him with wide eyes. "Louis, where did he go? We have to call the police! We—we have to go." He went for the door, hoping to get away in time before the horrible man returned. He never wanted to see him again. He felt like he was going to vomit. His shaking fingers tried to unlock the door, but they couldn't insert the damn key. 

Louis was by his side, placing his hand over Harry's, before taking the key from him and unlocking it himself. "I told him to leave, Harry. Harry. Calm down, okay? He's gone. You're okay."

He rushed himself inside and went straight to the stairs, knowing the elevator would be out, and trying his best to sprint up. He'd tripped on his way up but paid no mind to it, only picking himself back up and continuing his run. Harry was out of breath and he felt his heart pounding in his legs and fingers and neck and wanted to get away. He felt so dirty and disgusting knowing he was near Cal again; he needed to scrub himself with soap and sponges, anything to get this feeling off of him. 

He reached his door and banged, not caring if he woke Liam and Niall up. Or even Old Lady. He didn't care. He needed to get inside and lock himself in to protect everyone from him. He heard heavy panting and a door close, fear having him knock even harder until the door opened. He calmed down when it was only Louis, but didn't think too much of it when he flung himself inside and took Louis with him, slamming the door shut and locking it, double-checking each lock to make sure no one could come in from the outside. When he was positive it was locked securely, he heaved and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing past Liam and Louis and heading straight for the bathroom.

Harry knew he was causing a scene, but he had to hide himself. He needed to get in the water and bathe. He started to unbutton his shirt on the way to the bathroom, slipping out of it and leaving it on the floor. Fingertips. They were on his skin. If he looked at his bare arms, he knew he would see the bruises the rough fingers always left on him. Harry started to cry and switched the water on, barely out of his jeans before he stepped underneath the water and rubbed his hands up and down his arms. 

You're next, boy. 

Harry placed his hands over his ears, the hot water drenching him in his underwear. He's suddenly eight again and felt himself being jerked and slapped and touched. He brokenly shouted, wishing the water could drown him so that he could stop hearing Gemma in the next room and would stop feeling the rough hands on his body. He opened his eyes and found himself sitting in the tub, hands clutched to his ears as he rocked back and forth. Louis was watching him, a look of worry on his face as he gripped an inhaler. 

Harry's lower lip quivered. "I can't get him off of me. I feel it. I feel everywhere he touched me."

Louis dropped to his knees and placed the inhaler down, cardigan off, and sleeves rolled up as he tried to turn off the water. Harry begged him to stop. "Okay," Louis nodded and pulled his hand away. "How about I switch it to fill up the bath?"

"I need to wash him off of me."

Louis nodded, offering a smile. "I'll help you. Can I help you?"

Harry looked down at his arms, seeing the fingertips bruised onto his skin. He cried out and rubbed his hand over his arm, wanting it off. It needed to come off. He'd try anything to get it off, and he didn't understand why Louis was trying to get him to stop. Does he not see it? He felt a change in water pressure and then realized the water stopped raining down over him. Harry was going to protest, but held himself back when he saw the water rising in the tub. He hadn't realized Louis had soap in his hands and started to rub it over Harry's arms. It calmed him down knowing the filth was scrubbing away from his body. He felt numb and weak, now unable to lift his arms to help scrub. 

Louis continued. He kept washing Harry until he pruned up. Louis convinced him he was spotless and cleaner than he'd ever been. Harry felt mechanic as he got out of the tub, brain disconnected from his actions once he was led out of the tub and wrapped in a towel. He felt bumps on his arms that signaled be must be cold, but he didn't feel a thing. 

"How's Gemma?" Harry asked, needing to know that she's safe too. 

"Gemma is fine. Let's get you to bed."

\+ + +

He awoke groggy and his skin burned. Daylight was peeking through the windows, and as he sat up, he saw it. He saw the scratches all over his arms and gasped. "Louis!" He shouted, calling out for his safety. He needed Louis; he trusted Louis; he felt safe with Louis. When no one came, he shouted again. "Louis!"

The door swung open and hit the wall, and in came a frantic Louis, who looked sleepless and exhausted. Quickly, he was with Harry and looking over him, feeling his forehead and cheeks and checking for something that had caused his shouting. "What is it, baby? Are you hurt?"

Harry felt instantly at ease when he spoke like that, but he held out his arms. "What—what happened?"

Louis looked away from Harry's eyes and down to his arms, features softening immediately as he delicately traced over the scratches. "Last night you . . . you had a freak out. You thought your . . . Cal, had touched you and hurt you, and you wanted to scrub him away. Don't you remember? You accidentally scratched yourself all over trying to get rid of the nonexistent bruises. You even thought Gemma was here."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and slowly stuck his arms underneath the covers, tugging them up. "I can't remember." But he remembered seeing his Dad. "He . . . he's back, isn't he?"

Louis sighed and inched closer to Harry, letting his head fall on his chest. "He is," he said. Harry could hear the reluctance in his voice from having to confirm one of Harry's biggest fears. "But you have me and Liam and Niall. You're not alone, we'll be by your side. Always."

Harry nuzzled closer to his boyfriend and tried to ignore the fact that Cal knows where he lives and how terrifying it is. He trusts Louis and his friends to keep him away, no matter what. Curiosity is still itching away at his mind. Why would Cal come looking for him? How did he find him? What did he want? Harry wanted to protect his friends; he didn't know how dangerous Cal still is and didn't want to find out. Surely his grandmother would be willing to take them in until Harry feels comfortable again. She loves Liam and Niall, and she always said they needed to visit more often so she could feed them (something about them looking too thin made her cook one of the biggest meals Harry'd ever seen her prepare).

"Thank you," Harry finally said. Louis didn't ask much about Harry's Dad and he was thankful for it, but now he felt like he should know. He's involved now—they're involved. When he spoke to Josh about it, it somehow came out easier than expected. Maybe it was because they'd never met before, or that he didn't really know him that well. It's different when it's someone you love. Telling Louis something so personal and horrifying made his heart thud in his throat and his stomach twist into an uneasy feeling. He supposes it's true when they say it's easier talking to a stranger about things. He doesn't want Louis to look at him differently if he knows.

"Louis," he pushed out. He didn't expect the word to sound so forced and emotional. "I should tell you what he's . . ."

"No," Louis interrupted. Harry closed his mouth. "Don't feel forced to talk about him now. You tell me when you're ready; I know that he's a bad person and has scarred you in so many ways, baby." He placed a hand underneath Harry's chin and lifted his face up. "Last night, that was . . . it terrified me. You had some kind of breakdown and I didn't know what to do. I never want to see you like that again, H."

Harry felt so grateful knowing he wasn't being pushed into opening up about his past. And seeing Louis show how much he cared for him made him melt and gave him the strength he needed. He had the memories of the previous night's date to reflect on and admire, not what happened after. Harry leaned up and kissed Louis' cheek as a sign of gratitude for already taking care of him. 

"You should sing to me," Harry said, positioning his head further into Louis' chest. 

"Sing to you?"

"Yeah, sing to me. You sing very well and it's nice to listen to," Harry explained. "Sing to me?"

Harry closed his eyes as soon as Louis' quiet voice floated around the room.

\+ 

Niall sat back on the couch, ripping up the paper around his water bottle nervously. Liam was trying to distract himself from barging in on Louis and Harry (who have been in that room for an awfully long time) to question and physically support Harry. Niall could understand the slight jealousy he's feeling; Harry and Liam only had each other and was actually there when Harry would suffer in that house with Cal. Maybe that's where the overprotectiveness came from.

Liam tapped his hand against the armrest beside him and Niall really wanted to reach over and grab it, but then he sighed and frowned and shamed himself for thinking that, and instead nudged him with his foot. 

"Hey," Niall said.

Liam looked over at him, the signs of stress wrinkled onto his forehead as he forced a smile. "Hi."

"How are you?"

Liam shrugged and smoothed out a spot over his jeans; Niall had a feeling he was about to brush what he was feeling off, but then his face twisted in hurt. "I just want to be there," Liam sighed out. "I was always there to comfort him when Cal was in his life, but I can't even do that now. I think he's pushing me away."

Niall raised a brow. Harry had been preoccupied with his boyfriend, Niall thought, not pushing Liam away. He was utterly confused. Didn't everyone see that? They would spend time with each other like couples do. Niall couldn't grasp the fact that Liam didn't know that that's how relationships are. 

"I don't think so. I just think he wants his boyfriend to be there and hold him. You know, 'cause he might help in ways friends can't. Harry wouldn't push you away, you know he's not like that, Liam." 

"I'm—I'm jealous," Liam said in disbelief. 

Niall thought his heart stopped. "Of what?"

"Of the fact that Harry doesn't want us to be there for him anymore. He's got Louis now."

Niall shook his head and stared at Liam, eyes trailing over his hunched, stiff state. He let his hand travel to the place between his shoulder blades, his patting motions turning into a light rub once he felt how tense he was. A little bit of color rushed to his cheeks when Liam pushed back into the slight massage, obviously relaxing a little more than he previously was. Moments like this made Niall want to hold him and and kiss his jaw and tell him he's wrong; because he is, he is wrong. Liam can be so sensitive about things and he doesn't realize it, but Niall does. He sees how big his heart is and how fragile it can be if it's in the hands of someone he loves. He gives a piece of his heart to everyone he cares about and it leaves him bare and defenseless from the impact of someone breaking their piece. 

"He can't be single forever. And just because he's got Louis doesn't mean he's done with us. And hey, what about me? You've still got me to look after."

Liam laughed and leaned back against the couch, making Niall quick to pull his hand away. "Hm, you're right," he cheerfully said, wrapping his muscular arms around Niall and laying his head on his shoulder. "Got my Niall to clean after and take care of, that's for sure."

Niall scoffed and tried not to melt in the way Liam's body warmth was radiating off him. "Clean after? M'pretty tidy."

"Tidy!" Liam shouted out in laughter. "You're the—"

A knock at the door interrupted him. Niall stared, not wanting to get up and answer the door. Liam looked at Niall, which resulted in them having an eye-staring contest. There was a telepathic agreement between them; whoever was the first to blink had to answer the door. Niall's eyes watered, but he continue to keep his eyes open, if not widen them further. Liam's were going red, and seconds later, he looked away with a defeated groan and shut his eyes. Niall threw a hand up in the air victoriously and made a point to prop his feet up on the coffee table to annoy Liam. He huffed and stood, continuously wiping at his watery eyes as he moved to open the door. 

Niall placed his hands behind his head and relaxed back, until it hit him that it could be Old Lady here to smother him in her perfume that reeked of pine cones. He tensed and held his breath, waiting to hear her raspy voice, but exhaling when he only heard a man speaking. Niall assumed there was a mailing mistake and he received theirs. 

"You are not allowed here, not ever. You better go before I—"

"Liam?"

Niall turned his head to see Harry out of his room; a not so great feeling settled within Niall's stomach. Harry looked pale and Louis looked like an angry dog, and Liam—Niall leaned over to see Liam—Liam looked defiant and . . . was he flexing? Was that his way of scaring a man? Niall started to wonder when his life became a drama series. Maybe it was when he clicked that AD online. Or maybe it was when his Mom told him he couldn't walk around shirtless in his neighborhood because it made the neighbors uncomfortable. That was drama series worthy . . . 

Niall presumed the man at the door was Cal, Harry's father. He stayed in his seat, watching it all unfold before him.

"If you want to keep those legs, be smart and walk out of here right now," Louis spoke, stepping in front of Harry and moving to stand beside Liam. 

Louis suddenly appeared on the same level of masculinity as Liam. 

"You're just a boy, both of you. I'm here to talk to my son," Cal said, green eyes flicking between the both of them. 

Niall saw Harry flinch out of the corner of his eye. 

"Don't test me, mate, don't test me," Louis spat, inching closer to Cal. 

Cal laughed and itched at the scruff on his jaw, unafraid of Louis and Liam. Liam pulled Louis back by the shoulder and tried to step between them the best he could. "Why are you here?" Liam asked.

Harry crossed his arms and kept his head down. Niall didn't know what to do but just sit and watch.

"For my son! My boy, Liam. You don't understand. I just want to see my child, that's all."

"N-not true," Harry suddenly spoke, which made Niall gasp; he didn't expect that. He forced his chin up and clenched his fists, which were shaking. "You're not my Father, you stopped being that long ago. Just . . . Leave! Leave and never come back!" Something sparked in Harry and his face turned red, veins protruding in his neck. He stepped closer to the three. "You sick fuck. How did you even find me? I don't want you anywhere near me or my friends—ever!" He was now standing behind Liam and Louis. "You—you deserve to die for what you did to me and Gemma. You fu—" He was cut off from his sentence when he reached through Liam and Louis to try to get to Cal, his hands out and aimed for his neck, but he was soon restrained. "You deserve to rot in hell!"

Both Liam and Louis pulled Harry away, but it took Louis to keep him from attacking Cal.

"Get out before I call the police," Liam sternly said.

Cal grumbled something under his breath and headed out the door, but turned around before Liam could slam it in his face. "I'll be back, you know. I won't stop until I get to talk to my son."

With those words, he left; the door was slammed so harshly that it rattled the walls and Harry collapsed onto the floor in tears and Liam was sweating and clenching his jaw, while Louis was beside Harry and holding him tightly to his chest.

Niall finally stood. "Should I order pizza, then?"


	37. ❁29❁

Harry stayed over at Louis' for the night. Then the next. They never slept together (Louis was too fixated on not wanting to mess anything up), so Harry took the bed one night, then convinced Louis to sleep on the bed, and now they're inching towards the third night together. There wasn't much discussion about staying over, only that Louis wouldn't allow him to go if he didn't feel safe staying at his own place. Harry had confided in his boyfriend about his father, finally. It happened the first night he stayed; they somehow ended up in the bed at two in the morning, and there's something about being up together at such a late hour that turns any innocent conversation into a deep, meaningful one. Harry never understood that. Maybe it was because nighttime is such an intimate time. It's like the moons gravitational pull is grabbing at your deepest thoughts and tugging them out. But there's also a feeling of security and peace when you're expressing yourself in a dark room at two a.m. with the man you love. Harry loves the nighttime because he doesn't have to hide.

Louis didn't treat Harry any differently when he found out just how awful Cal really is. He didn't know why he thought Louis would suddenly treat him like he's some delicate baby; Harry isn't a delicate baby. He's tough, deep inside. Louis told him that. He told him how tough and strong he is, and that made Harry burst out in tears because no one had ever told him that before. 

He would miss Louis when he went to work, but while he was away, Harry would clean the house and do the laundry. He didn't want it to seem like he was taking advantage of Louis, and as a thank you, he cooked and cleaned. Louis' apartment was a mess, anyway, so he was bound to do it sooner or later. He had to buy him a vacuum; Harry couldn't believe Louis didn't have a vacuum. Louis only said, "I've got a broom, that's all I need." 

Harry didn't know why he felt betrayed when Louis said that.

He just couldn't see how Louis thought he only needed a broom when his apartment is 90 percent carpet. 

When Louis got home the third night, they ate and watched television, talked about their day, then showered (not together). They got cozy in bed together. Louis brought home Harry a book he found on his way back that was about a musician becoming deaf. It was heartbreaking, but too interesting to not put down. So they lied there, for about an hour, in silence. Louis was on his phone doing God knows what, but when he glanced at the clock and had seen an hour went by, he put the book down and sat up. 

Louis was still on his phone, not sensing Harry's actions or his staring. It's his third night here. None of them are moving from the bed; it's almost twelve a.m. Was Louis going to stay? Harry wouldn't mind, but now that the thought has surfaced in his brain, he can't help but wonder if this is what his future could be like. Louis, going to work. Harry (hopefully opening his own shop), cleaning and cooking for him. It wasn't that Harry was expected to do any of it, but that he just loved it. He loved being able to clean for someone and cook for them; he loved being needed in that sense. Louis told him multiple times that he didn't need to cook or clean, even said he'd do it himself if it's what Harry wanted—a clean apartment. But then Harry said he liked doing nice things for him. (That's all he said, because he was actually really embarrassed to admit that he wanted to spoil Louis into keeping his apartment clean and cooking, so that when Harry left, he would probably want him even more. Harry's starting to think he has an attention kink.)

Harry shifted around, hesitant, before he rolled on top of Louis and placed his chin on his stomach. Louis let out a noise of surprise and put his phone down to see what Harry was trying to do, but he only smiled. "Hi."

Louis laughed. "Hey. Watcha doin' there, honey?"

Honey seemed like such a domestic pet name. Harry blushed. "Noothing," he drawled out, getting himself comfortable between Louis' spread legs and burying his face into his lower stomach. 

"Just decided to . . . what are you—?"

Harry was blowing onto his stomach; it made a loud, unattractive noise echo out in the quiet room. He just wanted his undivided attention for some reason, and that seemed like a good way to get it. But he ended up kissing his stomach after blowing on it. His belly was really soft and cute, he couldn't help himself. And the shirt was risen up and showing off skin, it wasn't entirely his fault . . .

"Harry," Louis painfully said. 

Harry immediately stopped. "I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" He asked, looking up at him. Louis looked tense and red. Then he felt something near his rib cage, nudging at his body. Harry looked down and inhaled sharply. Louis' sweatpants were quite thin, but he didn't think he would be able to see— "You're not wearing any . . ." Harry trailed off, suddenly nervous and feeling a little hot himself. He purposely shifted lightly over Louis' crotch, which resulted in a strained noise from the man he's lying on. 

Louis tried to sit up to get Harry off him. "I have to use the bathroom," he rushed out. 

Harry didn't budge. "But—wait. You don't have to, like . . ." Harry looked back to Louis' hardened length and felt his hands become clammy. 

Louis stared at Harry, unmoving, waiting to see what he'd do. He looked so flushed and curious, eyes wide and sparkling. Harry avoided staring at Louis so that he wouldn't start feeling nervous and shaky. His mind was already beginning to race, though, especially when he felt his own hand travel to Louis' . . . private bits. He heard Louis inhale deeply without an exhale following; Harry trailed a gentle finger over the outline of his dick through the sweats. It was so prominent and there and Harry could really imagine it now, what he looked like, with his sweatpants off. Louis wasn't wearing any pants underneath. 

This is it, Harry thought to himself. This is my way of repaying him. 

Louis continued to stay speechless, even when Harry slowly began tugging his sweatpants down. His mouth was dry; he was breathless; he couldn't think. He inched down as he was pulling the sweatpants lower, lower, lower—until it sprung up, slanted and swelling on his thigh. Harry nuzzled his cheek into Louis' other thigh, staring at the veiny member, so beautifully long and—

"Harry," Louis choked out.

He looked up. Louis was staring right at him, and Harry really wanted to please him, put on a show. They held their stare, even when Harry tilted his head down to place a soft kiss on his thigh. Louis' mouth was held open, pupils blown, the only trace of his blue eyes were a thin, cerulean ring around darkness. 

"M'gonna," is the only thing Harry could say, the only thing that could hint at what he was going to do. Somehow Louis had gotten bigger, even when Harry thought he was fully hard. He was so long, now lying on his hip. The tip was red, and he really had enough of just staring at it, so he then oh so lightly wrapped his fingers around Louis' length, alert to all sounds spilling from his mouth, before he dragged his hand up. His dick was so heavy and firm in his hand, now able to feel veins and throbs. Harry experimented with different techniques, and found out Louis responded most to the way Harry's hand would twist at the top, and tighten at the base. He kept with that for a while, watching in fascination as Louis released such helpless noises. 

"Harry, shit," Louis said, voice back. Harry only smiled, proud of himself for getting him like this. "There's—ah—there's lube right in the . . . there," Louis stammered, pointing to the drawer next to him. 

Harry quirked an eyebrow, pulling his hand away and sitting up a little so that he was able to reach over to the drawer and search around. He found the little bottle and popped it open, squeezing a quarter sized amount in his palm, and then getting his fingers messy by rubbing his hands together. He was still sitting up, legs tucked underneath him, Louis' legs so wide and open for him. Harry put his hand back on him, the lube creating a wet noise as he dragged his hand up and down. Louis jumped when there was a hand placed on his balls, squeezing. 

Harry felt so dirty. 

Harry would toy with Louis by creating a fast pace, only to pull away when he felt Louis throb and whine. It made him feel so powerful and in control; it was nothing like he'd ever felt. He ignored the way is own dick was painfully restrained by underwear and sweats, begging to be touched, because it was about Louis. He didn't mind.

Louis' length was leaking with pre-come; Harry knew he was close.

"Baby boy, you've gotta stop that," Louis said, throwing Harry off. 

He paused briefly and gulped, the feeling of being so powerful escaping his system immediately. It was so strange how only a few words led him into his small place. 

"M'not doing anything," Harry quietly teased back, a faint smile on his lips. Louis looked close again so he pulled his hands away.

"That," Louis said through his teeth, bucking up into Harry's hands. "Keep your hands on me. Jesus," he moaned out, tossing his head back when Harry went back to stroking him at that fast pace.

He pulled away again; Louis groaned. "I'm not Jesus."

"Jesus fu—" He stopped himself. "Don't act like that. Finish what you started."

Harry's mouth was hung open. He'd never been spoken to like that. It made his stomach flip and his dick twitch, and he listened. He suddenly just wanted to be good and obedient, not powerful. Louis was letting out such beautiful noises when he kept at it, stroking his hand up and twisting, and then flicking his wrist down in a tight grip. Harry recalled what Louis was like that one drunken night and then swallowed to wet his dried out mouth. The word was on the tip of his tongue, but he was somehow afraid to let it out. He pushed himself when Louis started to thrust up into his hand, the tip leaking and so red. 

"Yes sir," he spoke, almost in a whisper.

Louis let out the loudest noise he's made yet, and with a couple more strokes, he was coming all over Harry's hand, white streaks painting his fingers. Harry bit his lip to keep in his own moans. Louis' thighs were shaking and he let out painful noises when Harry continued to move his hand up and down until he was dried out. Harry stayed sitting between his thighs, watching his boyfriend's chest heave up and down. Louis was a sweaty mess. 

"Lay down," Louis said, breaths still loud as he pushed himself up. "Gonna get you off."

Harry immediately flushed and looked down, embarrassed and upset. "I already . . . Um, you were so—I couldn't control it, it just—"

"You . . . You came?" Louis asked, brows raising up.

Harry looked up and nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

Louis sat up completely, pulling his sweats up, and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "No, no. You're okay, baby. I'm just shocked that you could do it without a little help," he softly spoke.

"You were loud. And looked so good. It just happened."

Louis shushed him and gave him a light hug, continuously patting his back. Harry really didn't mean to, but when Louis was being so demanding and loud, he just did it. 

"Let's go wash up, beautiful," Louis said, guiding Harry off the bed. "Such a good boy for me."

Harry wobbled a little when he stood, legs numb from sitting on them, but he regained his balance and followed Louis into the bathroom where they both cleaned up. They did end up sleeping in the bed together in a cuddled, hot mess. Louis held tightly onto Harry the entire night and he couldn't help but feel so happy and connected to him. To see Louis unravel like that is such an intimate and special thing to see; it was so much more than just getting him off and being done with it. It was about trusting each other enough, wanting one another, and taking care of each other. He didn't know if Louis felt the same, but the way he kissed Harry and held him made him feel like he did.


	38. ✿30✿

**TW: this chapter contains language and situations that may be triggering for you. Please read at your own risk.**

___

"Please, no. Please," Harry begged, the hard brick wall he was pushed against trapping him even more.

He could feel his breath on his face and it reeked; Harry held his breath.

"You deserve this now more than ever," Cal gritted out, a hand slapping over Harry's mouth.

**14 hours before.**

"You don't have to do this," Louis whispered.

Their hands clung to one another's as if, if they parted, they'd never rejoin again. 

"I do," Harry shakily spoke, their close proximity somehow offering comfort. 

Louis kissed Harry's face all over and helped him get dressed. Harry didn't have much to say after that. Liam and Niall joined them after he got dressed and they walked to Louis' car together. The ride was silent, apart from the music playing from the radio that Louis finally fixed not too long ago. Louis kindly circled around the building for a long time before they parked in Ham's Burgers' parking lot. 

His friends stood in front of him, protecting and leading him inside the restaurant. They were here to comfort him, he likes to think, and not to protect him. He doesn't want to believe he needs protection—that would just make him feel frightened again. Louis reminded him that he was older now and grown, and that he's strong and in control. It made him feel wonderful. He was clinging to those words when he walked inside, squeezing Louis' hand on the way. Niall and Liam stopped and looked around, and once they found who they were looking for, they walked in that direction. Harry was hesitant at first, but Louis raised his hand and kissed the back of it reassuringly, and that's really all he needed. He straightened up and headed forward.

The familiar and public area helped ease his stress greatly. He liked knowing that nothing bad could really happen under the watch of randoms. 

Liam sat beside him; Niall chose to pull a chair at the end of the table. They looked so blank-faced and angry as they stared at Cal. Harry was silently praising Liam for his bravery for choosing the seat next to him. Louis pulled out a chair that sat cater-cornered from Cal, meant for Harry, but he declined and impulsively pulled out the seat across from him and sat down. Louis stood, shocked, but quietly sat.

Harry was thankful that his friends somewhat sat in a way that protected him from Cal, but after all, it was his fight to fight. He just couldn't completely do it on his own—and no one wanted him to. 

He looked as greasy as ever, styling what hair he had across his head in a comb-over look. His fingernails were filthy as he raised them up to scratch at his protruding chins. He was disgusting and reeked of wet dog. His clothes were torn and it looked like he hadn't seen the inside of a bathroom in years. 

The silence dragged on, and all Harry could do was stare at the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table. He couldn't bring himself to stare.

"Well," Cal cleared his throat. "Who's buying?" He asked, taking the menu that was stuck between the napkin dispensers and hot sauces. 

Louis loudly cleared his throat in a mocking way. "I've got enough money for three. Liam, Niall, Harry—you hungry?"

"Starving," Niall said.

"Didn't eat breakfast," Liam replied.

Harry continued to stare at the salt and pepper shakers; the thought of food made him want to vomit. "I don't want to waste any time," he quietly said, glancing to Cal for as long as he could. "What do you want?"

"Couldn't get in a light chat? Haven't seen you in years, son, you could at least tell me how you are. Ya queer?"

Harry looked up at that, eyes round and suddenly alert to his surroundings when he spoke to him in that tone. He could feel Louis' hand on his thigh to keep him calm and mostly to comfort him. 

"Why, yes. I am," Harry firmly said, eyes never leaving Cal's.

Cal's eyes searched his own, before a smirk broke out across his features. "I didn't raise no son of mine to be a fag."

Harry felt his heart thump heavily in his chest. "You didn't raise me at all. My Mom did, my only parent. You were too busy in prison for taking away the innocence of your little girl and your faggot of a son. I came here today for one reason, and that's to keep you away for good. I'm hearing you out because you want something. That's the only reason why you're here, because that's all people like you do—take and take until you use them all up, and then move onto someone else for more. Tell me what you want and then leave me alone." 

Harry was livid. 

Everyone looked shocked for Harry speaking out like that. He even shocked himself a little. He didn't like talking about what his father did to him. It was only once and Gemma was the one who stepped in and protected him from it. 

"You think you're so high and mighty now, don't you?" Cal said, with laughter following. "Can't even be with me alone without your friends here protecting you. You're a coward."

"Don't talk to me about cowardice," Harry seethed out from his clenched teeth. 

"I think you should get out what you need to say. Before things get too ugly," Liam said.

Cal looked at Liam with a crunched up face, about to say something, but instead he turned to look at Harry. "I need some money."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows; he should have expected those words. "What for?"

"What for?" He questioned with a shake of his head. "Because I just do!"

"All right," Louis suddenly said, standing up and grabbing the back of his chair. "This was a waste of time. No one's going to give you money, you worthless pig. If you need money, how about you get off your fat ass and get a job?" He placed his hand gently on Harry's shoulder. "Let's go, baby."

They all moved to stand, but suddenly, a look of worry broke out over Cal's features. 

"I'm in trouble, all right!"

Harry paused. "What kind of trouble?"

"Some trouble I got into before prison. They know I'm out and they're looking for me. They need the money I owe, and if I don't pay it . . ."

"Guess you should've thought about that before taking something you couldn't pay back," Louis said, pulling Harry out of his chair. "You stay out of his life, because Cal, I don't mind going to prison for him. Come near him again and you're a dead man."

Louis was pushing Harry to the exit before he could even process it. Harry didn't know what to think—he couldn't think. His brain was scattered and all over the place, and not one single thought would stick so that he could just . . . think. It was too much to process and he feared another attack coming on, but that didn't quite happen. 

They all went back to Louis' apartment, all eyes on Harry, just waiting for a freak out of some sort. But he didn't feel the need to. His stomach wasn't twisting up in knots out of disgust. He supposes it's the fact that Cal came to him, because him needing something showed just how powerless he was, and that made Harry feel victorious and not so afraid anymore. 

"How are you feeling?" Louis asked as they both sat on the couch. 

"I'm feeling fine." Liam and Louis exchanged looks. "No, really. I am. There's just one thing . . . What kind of trouble do you think he's in? Like, do you think it's bad?"

Liam shook his head. "You can't possibly be considering lending him that money, Harry. Not after what he's done."

"And what about that floral shop you're saving up for?" Louis quietly asked.

Oh, Harry thought to himself. They do have good points. It's just that, deep down, if the major trouble Cal is in would get him killed, would it be his fault? It's a horrible thing that he wished he was dead, but he doesn't want that death to be by murder. If that's the case, then he couldn't ever live with himself. He's just now starting to, and if that's going to rest on his shoulders, then he wouldn't know how to get out of bed in the morning. 

"Yeah, you guys are right. I think I'm going to take a shower, though." He looked at Louis. "What are we having for supper?"

He smiled and stared up at Harry. "Take-away sound good?"

\+ + +

After a steaming shower, they all filled their stomachs up on teriyaki chicken, chow mein, and as much egg rolls as they could. Harry was constantly checking the time on his phone, waiting for the moment it would become late enough for them to head off. Liam had school tomorrow and he was certain Niall was working tonight, so he knew they couldn't stay for too long. 

Before his shower, he found a note in his pocket. It was a napkin from Ham's Burgers, and on it was a street address. He didn't know how it got there, but he did know it was his Dad that placed it there. The guilt of getting him in serious trouble when he could help him out was eating at him in the back of his brain. 

Liam and Niall left around ten, and after a few shows on the sofa, Louis was starting to nod off. Harry nudged him and told him to get to bed, and he agreed as he stood up with a yawn. Harry stayed in his spot on the couch, but Louis was still standing there, waiting.

"Coming to bed?" Louis asked, tiredly scratching the back of his head. He looked like a tired bunny with his fluffy hair and long sweater. Harry pushed away the urge to cuddle him to death.

"I'm gonna see how this ends first," he lied. Louis nodded and yawned again, making his way into the bedroom.

Louis was completely out at around twelve, and he knew that when he didn't come back to the living room to drag Harry in his bed. 

Harry was talking himself into it, even as he tugged on his shoes and walked out the door. All he was going to do was go to the place on the napkin and see if he's going to be there or not. If Cal is there, then he'll just ask how much money he really needs. No big deal. He isn't doing anything bad. 

Then why are you sneaking out?

Harry inhaled deeply and pushed away his thoughts, somehow thankful he at least left a note for Louis to find, with the address he was going to on it. He got a cab and told him the address, to which the cabbie said that it was the bad part of London and he'd need a good tip to drive there. 

He was right. 

The expensive restaurants and hotels zoomed by, and was replaced with older shops, it looked. Harry had only seen the wealthy side of London, and really, he convinced himself it was all rich people that lived in the city. Until now. 

Dodgy apartment buildings slowly passed by, and people that looked homeless were out on the streets. He could see a dim street approaching, one that was in between two large buildings, and a sudden feeling hit him and his stomach flipped, just praying that wasn't where his destination was. 

Just as he had that thought, the cab pulled up to the street and stopped. 

"Here ya are."

Harry gulped and handed him his card, staring down the dark street.

The cabbie charged him, then handed him back his card. "Do you want me to . . . stay?"

Harry stared at the man behind the glass, noting how uneasy he looked in this part of town. Harry would hate himself if he made him stay for a long time. 

"No, you can go," Harry said with a slight smile, shoving his card back into his pocket. He opened the door and left the cab. "Wait, shoot," he said, immediately after the cab took off down the road. How could he be so stupid? He doesn't even know if Cal is here, and it'd probably take an hour for another cab to come down and pick him up. He sighed and grabbed at his hair, giving it a nervous and frustrated tug, before he pushed himself to walk down the road.

The street looked like it went on for ages, without a single street-light. Harry was regretting this too much to continue walking. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Louis' number, tightly holding the phone to his ear as he waited for Louis to pick up.

"You came," someone spoke behind him. 

Harry turned and lowered the phone, lips parted and heart thumping heavily in his chest as he stared at his father. He quickly hung up. "Yeah," Harry said, keeping his voice quiet so it wouldn't be noticeable if there was a tremble in it.

"So you gonna lend me that money?" Cal asked, stepping closer.

Harry took a slow step away. "It depends. How much trouble are you in?"

"A lot, boy. A lot." 

Harry was glad the moon was out and offering just a tiny amount of light so that he wasn't in complete darkness. "I need descriptiveness."

Cal huffed and stepped even closer to Harry. "I'm talking 'bout guns and big men in packs coming down to collect what I owe."

Harry didn't need to be a complete genius to know what that meant. He sighed and shoved both of his hands in his pockets, turning around so that he could think, and then taking a few steps away from Cal. He didn't want to be too close to him; a part of him will always be afraid of that sick human.

"And how much money do you owe?" He asked, pausing to look up at the side of the wall of the building he was facing, which was made of red bricks.

"Around fifteen grand."

Harry turned around quickly with wide eyes and stared at Cal, trying to see if he was joking or not. "That's insane! I don't have that kind of money lying around, are you crazy?" Harry exhaled out of disbelief and took in his surroundings, realizing how much trouble he'd be in if something happened. He didn't know this part of the city and he didn't know where to run if it came down to it. 

Cal was in front of him in a flash, chubby fingers grasping the collar of his shirt. "You listen to me. I don't have the time to wait on you for money. You either give me what you have, or I'll take it from you."

Harry was suddenly paralyzed, unable to move. Flashbacks of the past surfaced in his brain, flashing into his thoughts and replaying the time he had abused Harry. He couldn't speak, not when Cal was so close and grabbing at his shirt like he was. Silent prayers were being spoken, especially when the grip Cal had on Harry's shirt tightened.

"How much do you have?" He asked, tone loud and powerful.

Harry tried cowering away. "Not much! Just let me go, we'll talk this out," he said, regaining his ability to speak.

"How much?"

"Only . . . three. Maybe four?"

"Thousand? That isn't enough!" He shouted.

Harry flinched away, trying to get out of the hold he has on his shirt. He didn't want to stare at those cold eyes or have his hands so close to touching his skin. He needed to get away and make a run for it. 

But then he felt a push, and it took him a second too late to realize he was being shoved backwards. 

"Please, no. Please," Harry begged, the hard brick wall he was pushed against trapping him even more.

He could feel his breath on his face and it reeked; Harry held his breath.

"You deserve this now more than ever," Cal gritted out, a hand slapping over Harry's mouth.

Harry struggled against the pressure of such a huge man being pressed against him; he tried to scream out for help, but no one could hear. He could feel a hand on his zipper and instantly started sobbing as he tried to kick his legs against the body pressed to his. He decided to use his hands to try and pry the disgusting man away, fingertips digging deeply into his upper arms. Harry pushed and tried to extend his arms out, searching for unfound strength, and to his surprise, a gap started making its way between them. And due to Harry fighting back so much, Cal couldn't get to the button on his jeans.

Harry was gasping and felt his arms tense up. He'd never really been to a gym, never worked out too much apart from a couple of jogs here and there, so his upper arm strength was practically nonexistent. There was a sudden burn in his arms, and he knew he couldn't keep the distance between him and Cal for too long. Within a second, he decided to snap his knee up and forcefully bring it up between his legs. Cal rumbled incoherently and stumbled, his grip gone from Harry's body. 

He didn't waste any time; Harry ran away from that street and onto the main road, running alongside it and hoping that someone would have the decency to pull over to see if he needed help. Still running, he pulled out his phone, fingers hovering over the numbers for emergencies, before bright headlights blinded his vision and caused him to stop in his tracks. He raised his empty hand up to his eyes to shield the bright lights.

"Harry—"

He dropped his hand and watched as the car pulled up beside him, window rolled down. He nearly broke down in tears when he saw that it was Louis, but wasted no time in running to the passengers side of the vehicle and climbing in. 

"Go! Hurry up, he's—"

Louis didn't need to hear anything else. He put his foot on the gas and drove away. Harry tried evening out his breaths as he went to reach Louis from across the console, head resting on his lap in an uncomfortable position. He didn't mind it.

"Harry, what happened?" Louis asked, his hand brushing through Harry's hair.

Harry didn't notice he was crying until he felt the wetness against his cheeks. "A mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake," he sobbed out.

"It's okay, baby boy. You're safe and with me. I've got you."


	39. ❁31❁

The next few days were spent with Harry not leaving Louis' side. He didn't want to be by himself. Although what had happened was rarely talked about (Liam and Niall knew, of course), it felt like he couldn't escape it. Eyes were constantly on him, and every time he turned his back, he felt like they were talking about him and his father. 

They didn't know a new feeling had burst within Harry—he felt like he had to hide it, because he should be afraid and scared right now. Instead he feels unbelievably strong. Not exactly physically, but emotionally. Anyone would agree that Harry wasn't an emotionally stable person. He'd been through a lot with his mother's death and sickening recurrences involving Cal. He even sympathized himself at points.

But being able to stand up against someone that had terrified him all his life had given him this type of freedom he never knew he had locked away. Cal still frightened him beyond belief, but now he doesn't feel helpless. He doesn't feel like he has to hide. 

And that is something he never thought he could ever feel. 

Even though he wants to stay by Louis' side at all hours of the day, he doesn't feel like that makes him any less strong than he was the night he actually fought against his biggest fear. He just didn't want to be left alone. Harry went with Louis to work (he didn't want to go back to his flower stand just yet) and talked to Zayn and Madeline when Louis would shoo him away for being too big of a distraction while he did his work. 

In between people, Louis would treat Harry just as he did when they were alone—and that means he'd hold him (put his arms around Harry's waist), kiss him, whisper adorable words in his ear, and just look after him. Harry liked being looked after. Of course when Liam did it it was considered annoying, but not with Louis. It was different with him. Everything was different with him.

Harry was in the chair Louis tattooed him in many months ago, bored out of his mind. It was around three in the afternoon and Louis didn't have anyone until 4:30, so they had plenty of free time. Louis was only just now eating his lunch food. 

Harry let his legs dangle off the side of his chair as he let his head fall back, watching Louis eat in his chair while scrolling through his phone.

"Heey," he mumbled, thumbs tapping against the padded armrests. 

Louis glanced at Harry, then looked back to his phone while stuffing his mouth with a turkey sandwich. "Hi."

Harry crinkled his nose and sighed loudly. "I'm bored."

Louis shrugged. "You didn't have to come today, you know."

Harry looked up to the ceiling and pouted. "But I like being with you."

"Mm," Louis hummed, followed by a sound of a chair rolling across the floor. Harry looked up when he felt something being placed on his stomach; Louis had put his sandwich on his stomach. "What if I got all my crumbs on your pretty, blue shirt?"

"I'd dust them off," he simply said, not finding it unusual that Louis decided to use his stomach as a table. 

"Didn't even notice I complimented your shirt? How bored are you?" He said, traces of amusement laced in his voice.

Harry suddenly flushed. "I—I noticed . . . Thank you," he rushed out.

"There's my Harry! Getting all flustered with compliments. Wondered where he went."

"He just couldn't speak buried under the mountain of bread crumbs."

"He can dust them off with his giant hands."

Harry raised his hands and squinted, examining them. "Do you think I could fit my giant hands fully around someone's neck?" When Louis didn't respond, he looked over to find him staring with a brow raised. "What?" he quietly mumbled, placing his hands down.

Louis inhaled and grabbed Harry's left hand, opening his fingers out and humming to himself. "Maybe if they were petite." Harry made an odd noise when Louis guided his hand to his throat and adjusted it around his neck. "I'm not considered petite now!" Louis happily said, when Harry's fingers didn't fully wrap around his neck.

Harry pulled his hand away and rolled his eyes with a goofy smile. "Who calls you petite?"

"Zayn. He does," Louis replied with narrowed eyes. 

When Louis finally took the last bite of his sandwich, Harry began swiping off the crumbs with his giant, petite-people-choking hands. "You're not petite, sir," he jokingly said. 

Louis pinched Harry's thigh. Harry's left leg jumped a little out of surprise. "Don't call me that here."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. "It—it was a joke, Louis," he said, trying to explain.

Louis exhaled out a laugh and shook his head. "No, baby, don't feel bad." Louis stood from his chair and and kissed Harry's cheek; his lips dragged until they were close to his ear. "Just makes me want to do things to you."

Harry felt his cheeks immediately heat up. His hands gripped the armrests again and he shifted in the seat, trying to form a response, but all that came out were little whines. Louis pulled away with a satisfied smirk, one that made Harry pout and release a frustrated whimper. 

"Meanie," he quietly said

Louis just smiled and tampered with the papers at his desk.

After a handful of people came in, it was inching close to eight-thirty before he was done for the day. Harry was glad about that, happy to be out of the small room and crash into Louis' very comfortable bed. They said their goodbye's to Zayn, who had decided to work some of the later shifts during the weekdays, and journeyed home. They walked together, hand in hand, and made light conversation. As soon as they reached the apartment building, fatigue settled in at the thought of a big bed awaiting them after a long day. Harry complained to Louis about it while they walked up to Louis' apartment, to which Louis only said, "you don't have to come, you know." Harry knew. They were quiet after that.

Once settled on the couch (it was closer than the bed), Harry sprawled himself out across it and rested his head in Louis' lap while he scrolled through Instagram. He nearly dropped his phone on his face when e-rizzle popped up on his phone.

e-rizzle: Harry mate, hope you're doing well! heard what went down. here for you pal. xx

Harry: EDDYYYY!!! don't you worry bout me, I'm swell. but you........ haven't seen you around! where ya @ buddy? ): we need to hang out

e-rizzle: why doesn't anyone know where I am, what the hell. I'm on vacation m8

Harry: ??? you never mentioned this to me I feel so betrayed

e-rizzle: go look on my Instagram i thought it'd be better to just post about instead of texting everyone but I'm regretting that cuz even me manager asked why I wasn't around

Harry: you know they make group chats for a reason goofball

e-rizzle: not all my friends have iPhones!!!

Harry: rolling my eyes. but srsly where are you. 

e-rizzle: somewhere in Japan. 

Harry: WHAT ARE YOU REALLY WHATS IT LIKE IM SO UPSET WHY AM I NOT WUTH YOU ED 

e-rizzle: I've eaten so many weird foods I don't think my butthole will ever be the same again

Harry: omg no I don't need to know that 

"Who ya texting?" Asked Harry's boyfriend.

"Ed. Did you know he went on vacation?" He asked, putting his phone down on his chest as he looked up at Louis.

Louis hummed and went to play with Harry's hair, accidentally bumping his hand against his nose while doing so. "Sorry," he said with a smile. "Yeah, I knew. Didn't you see his Instagram?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and poked Louis' cheek. That made him look away from the TV. "No!

"Oh," he grinned. "Then go look at his Instagram."

"I don't need to now," he huffed out.

Louis looked back to the TV and started surfing through the channels, and faintly Harry could hear a man news reporter talking about the local robberies in London. It really wasn't too out of the ordinary, but the robber always got away so cleanly and the only thing he left behind was his trademark X. 

Harry didn't care too much about it, just liked staring at Louis' relaxed features as he stared at the television. He lifted his hand and brushed his forefinger over the hairs appearing on his chin due to lack of shaving for the past few days. Harry liked the stubble that Louis kept shaving off. It made him appear much older; Harry really liked it. 

A woman reporter with a posh accent suddenly spoke, her voice filled with such seriousness that it would be considered funny if it weren't for the words coming from her fake lips. 

"Just in now, but I am standing at the crime scene in downtown London, where there has been an apparent mob shooting. It hasn't been exactly confirmed, but the word around is that—"

Harry sat up with furrowed brows and intently stared at the screen. She was now interviewing a local.

"I don't know, it just all happened so quickly! I was walking, you see—"

She had on a big hat that served no purpose since it was dark out, and she was waving her hands around dramatically. She looked pleased she was on television and was certainly using the screen-time to her advantage, even promoting a thrift store she owned multiple times.

"—And I heard so many gunshots!"

Harry felt his stomach twist into a knot. 

Suddenly the posh reporter touched her earpiece and kindly smiled at the lady, stepping away from her, and then staring directly at the camera. "The body has been identified," Harry inhaled, "As Cal Styles."

Harry exhaled and reached across to turn off the TV. The only reason why the news would want to report a death in the streets is because of a mob—only for good TV. It aggravated Harry for some reason. He didn't feel guilt like he thought he would, just . . . nothing. He didn't feel a thing. That's what was bothering him; he felt like it was inhuman not to feel grief or guilt, or any emotion at all. But this is the man that did sickening things to children. Didn't men like that deserve to die?

He felt a hand on his back and realized how tense he was, so he scratched his nose and leaned back against the sofa to try and relax. 

"You okay, H?"

Harry looked over at Louis and forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." Silence. "I should probably call Gem and tell her about this."

Louis stared and was quiet for a moment. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Harry shrugged and looked down at his palms. He took sudden interest in the lines on his skin and traced over them before releasing a sigh. "I don't like how I'm feeling," he spoke, voice so soft he was sure Louis didn't hear. But he did.

"How do you feel, baby?" He played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Louis really liked Harry's long hair. At first, he thought Louis played with it because it was something Harry liked (and it helped calm him down for some reason), but he soon discovered Louis absentmindedly toying with strands of his hair or constantly brushing his fingers through it, because it was something he liked to do. Harry never questioned it (he just liked Louis' hands on him), just assumed it was something he did just because he could now. Maybe there was more to it, he didn't know. He couldn't think about it while his brain was upset at himself for feeling absolutely nothing.

"That's just it; I don't feel anything. I'm not sad or upset in any way, and a part of me is relieved he's dead." After speaking that aloud, he suddenly panicked and rushed tears rolled down his cheeks. "That makes me a terrible person, doesn't it?" He asked, leaning against Louis' side. "I'm awful because I'm okay with my Dad being dead."

"No," Louis immediately said, his hand rubbing up and down Harry's arm. "No, it doesn't. He was an awful man, Harry. He threatened you and hurt you and your sister, and to be relieved is something anyone would feel after experiencing that. It doesn't make you a bad person, Haz, I swear. You're my beautiful, sweet and caring baby, and you'll always be that. Okay? Got that?"

Harry nuzzled further into Louis' side and nodded with a frown, wiping the tears away. 

"Attaboy," Louis gently said as he kissed the top of Harry's head. "Let's get you to bed. It's been a long day and you need to sleep."

Harry didn't argue, even though he didn't feel too tired. He let Louis walk him into the bedroom. Harry was too lazy to get out of his pajamas, so he just pulled off his jeans and top and climbed into bed in his underwear. Louis did the same, and once they were in bed, he pulled Harry close to him so his bare front was pressed against Harry's. 

Louis' stomach was warm and smooth against his back, and with his arm slung around his shoulder, he couldn't help but feel so warm and comfortable that it made him sleepy. 

Harry was now feeling a lot. The emotions were too scattered to just claim he felt one, so he didn't put a name on what he was feeling, and just focused on the breaths puffing into his hair and the heartbeat thudding against his back. He felt so many things for Louis right then that he couldn't help but say the words he had been keeping himself from saying.

"I love you."

It was quiet, but loud enough for Louis to hear, Harry was so sure if it. He was silent, though, and he wondered if Louis had fallen asleep. He didn't want to flip around to make sure, or discover that he was awake and weirded out that Harry just said that to him.

But then he heard a mumble of words that took him back to the time he was crushing so hard for Louis and had convinced himself he'd never be with him—yet here he was, in his arms, and so in love. Those rush of feelings were back and the butterflies heavily flapped in his stomach, tingles rushing through his body when Louis sleepily said:

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: I got the idea of naming Harry's dad cal from that hoe cal from titanic


	40. 31½

Louis had grown so beyond fond for Harry that it terrified him. The boy was too kind and gentle and beautiful that he wanted to protect it. He wanted to protect Harry too, but he mostly wanted to protect what made him . . . him. 

Louis was afraid a new Harry would arise after the news of his father's death. Especially when he was contacted by the police and was questioned about what he planned on doing with his dad's body. Harry simply said he wanted nothing to do with it, and hasn't been bothered since.

Little things like that puts Louis on edge. He knows Harry is strong enough to keep his head above the water, but there's this thought nipping at his mind that is reminding him that one little thing could send him into his panicked state. That night Harry saw his father again for the first time in years never left Louis; it stuck with him. Every time something remotely dramatic happened in Harry's life, that night flashed back into his mind. Louis never wanted to see Harry like that again and was set on preventing it.

So the next few days with Harry were spent taking extra care of him, and observing cautiously for any abnormalities in his behavior. So far nothing.

It was a pleasant surprise, really, to see Harry doing so well. He even held it together when he had to tell Gemma everything, which had Louis certain would end in tears. It didn't. And now, as he is back in Harry's apartment, he notices how far he's come. Harry had grown so much more confident in himself, even if he hasn't seen it. Louis sees it. He doesn't hide behind his friends or hurts as much, or is afraid to be himself; he'd ditched those outfits he used to wear that he thought made him "manly" and now wore what he wanted to, and that was a lot of patterns and bright colors. He was even picking up flower crowns again. Louis felt so proud. 

He watched as Harry laughed with his friends, a drink in hand, and spoke out his odd humor without another thought. Louis smiled admirably and finally entered the living room, walking over to Harry and taking his seat in the chair beside the sofa. 

Harry was sitting on the floor in front of Louis' seat, so he inched up and slid his arms around Harry's neck as Liam went on about some funny story that happened while he was in class. 

Harry relaxed against Louis and tried to adjust the flowers sitting on top of his head; Louis smiled and pulled his hands back so that he could grab the flowers. Absentmindedly he put them on his own head so that he could run his fingers through his boyfriend's hair without the distraction. Harry let out a noise of protest, but turned around and actually aw'd when his eyes landed on what was on Louis' head.

"How cute!" He loudly said, turning around and pulling out his phone. Louis pressed his lips into a firm line. "Oh, Lou, c'mon. Smile. You look adorable."

Louis didn't smile. He didn't want pictures of himself wearing a crown made of flowers, especially when he knew Harry would post it everywhere. Instead he reached up and took it off. "I'm good," he dismissed.

Harry frowned. Louis tried to look away. Harry huffed, which had Louis looking back, only to see his frown-pout. He shook his head. Harry looked down in sadness. Louis huffed and swore underneath his breath and lifted the flowers back to his hair. 

"I hate myself," he muttered.

"You'd make a pretty flower girl," Liam said.

Louis flipped him off.

"Hey, don't make fun of him!" Harry defensively said while continuously snapping pictures. "He looks great."

"Thanks," he unhappily muttered. "Can I take it off?"

Harry sighed and put his hand on Louis' knee, eyes wide and so beautifully green. "Can you just smile a little? Please?"

And how could Louis say no to that.

Louis smiled, Harry snapped the picture, and then he took it off and placed it back on Harry. Harry started to swipe through the pictures on his phone, occasionally lifting it up to show Louis how "cute" he is. 

The rest of the night was spent with tipsy-driven jokes and cold pizza. It was around two a.m. when they all called it a night. Louis argued with Harry about where he would stay (Louis said he could get a cab home so that he wouldn't be an inconvenience), but once they chilled out for a moment, Harry convinced him to stay with these big round eyes no one could ever say no to. And Louis is so undeniably whipped beyond belief that he complied to Harry demanding they share the bed. 

That was something that happened unexpectedly. Sharing the bed was a huge step, but he supposed saying the big L word is pretty damn huge, too. Louis liked falling asleep and waking up with someone he deeply cared for. And to have it reciprocated is a feeling he couldn't describe.

Louis wasn't sure when the exact moment he fell in love with Harry was. Part of him screams it was when they had their first date. That night, that god awful night, just sent his protective instincts into overdrive, spiking up the love-meter in the process. It sounds so cheesy, but it's true. And it all seemed to be happening so fast, yet just right. Nothing felt out of place or awkward—it's everything he'd ever hoped for in a relationship. 

He didn't really know how sure he was on the "in love" thing until Harry told him that night. Then it just clicked. It was for sure. Louis was in love. And it made his body tingle with a weird energy, but it was nice. Being in love is super nice, because it really gives you a reason. Before, his reason to go on was just the tattoo parlor. Now it's someone he loves and who loves him back. 

"My bed. I'm so sorry I've neglected you," Harry said with a frown as he fell face-first onto the mattress with his arms spread out.

Louis grabbed a pillow and hit his back with it. "It doesn't have feelings, Harry."

Harry rubbed the mattress. "Don't listen to him, baby. He's just jealous that I'm not on top of him right now."

Louis was about to roll his eyes, but then he raised a brow and thought on it. He wouldn't mind Harry laying on him. He sighed and hit Harry with the pillow again. "Weirdo. Move over."

"I'm kinda having a moment here." Harry stroked the bed again.

Louis crossed his arms after tossing the pillow back, expecting Harry to move, but sighed when he proceeded to sweet talk it. "My God," Louis said underneath his breath while climbing onto the bed and sitting on Harry's back. 

"Louis."

He smiled when Harry sounded like someone was sitting on his back.

"Louis. Lungs. Crushing."

"I bet," Louis grinned.

"P-L-S."

Louis furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at his fluff nugget. "What? What does that stand for?"

"It's please! But in text form. Ugh, you don't understand me. Get you and your voluptuous behind off of me."

Louis gave it a few seconds before rolling off and falling next to him, shifting around to get comfortable. "I understand you," he quietly said, hand inching to Harry's back but finding its way at the nape of his neck to gently massage it.

"Just not my text talk?"

Louis laughed and looked over to Harry, who was resting his chin on his arm and staring right back with his big eyes. His heart suddenly felt attacked; no one should be this beautiful. "You're an angel."

Harry blushed and hid his smile in the crook of his elbow. "Am not . . ."

He inhaled deeply and rolled onto his stomach to copy Harry. "You are. You're just this beautiful human with beautiful hair and eyes and . . ." Louis poked Harry's nose. "So kind to all and willing to risk your life to try and help the devil himself." Harry looked away, but looked back when Louis continued. "You're the most wonderful man and I'm beyond honored that you're letting me love you."

Harry scooted closer after a moment of silence and gently pressed his lips to Louis'. He could taste the alcohol Harry had been drinking, but his lips were smooth and kept the kiss so slow and meaningful. 

Louis still couldn't believe that every time they kissed, it always felt like the first time. Maybe they wouldn't kiss this passionately all the time, but when it happened, that feeling always came back. The one where it made the his stomach tickle and his heart beat so heavily—and the tingles—they seemed to never leave. 

"What was that for?" Louis asked when they pulled apart.

Harry shrugged shyly. "You always make me feel so special and I couldn't find the words to respond, so I just—kissed you."

A forced bang loudly sounded throughout the room that made them both jump and sit up. 

"Hush up, will ya? Tryna get some sleep! Some of us work!" Niall shouted through the wall.

"And go to college!" Liam added.

Louis raised his fist to the wall to return the loud bangs. "Well I'm trying to have a conversation!"

"You were both making out!"

"How did you—"

"Bloody thin walls," Liam quietly said. Louis assumed he was talking to Niall. "I'm Louis, I'm so whipped that whipped cream isn't as whipped as I am."

Louis gasped. "I can hear you!"

Harry snorted.

"Oh," Liam continued to whisper. 

"Reckon he can still hear us?" Niall asked.

"Dunno."

"... I can." Louis looked at Harry and shook his head.

"Stop eavesdropping!" Liam shouted.

"You started it!"

"Go to bed so I can do the dirty with my boyfriend!" Harry suddenly piped up.

Louis' eyes went wide and he turned his head so quickly that he got a neck ache. But once he got a good stare in, he could tell that Harry was only kidding around to get Liam riled up. So he went with it.

"Ohh, Harry," he sensually began. "Feels so good."

"Oh my God," Niall quietly said.

Harry's cheeks reddened but he played along. "Yeah? Daddy like that?"

"Mhm. Daddy like that."

"I AM GOING TO HANG MYSELF FROM MY CEILING FAN. I'M MOVING OUT TOMORROW," Liam yelled as loudly as he could. Louis and Harry couldn't help but burst out in laughter.

Louis placed his head back on the pillow and Harry soon joined him, the laughter slowly fading out. Harry apologized to Liam through the wall and told him goodnight, and a few minutes later, snores could be heard. The thin walls forced them to whisper so that they wouldn't wake the two.

"How can you stand to have the walls this thin?" Louis asked. He started to play with Harry's fingers.

"It never bothered me. Never really did anything to, like, make them shout at me or annoy them. They always went to bed early too. They're an old couple, those two. Old men," Harry whispered out.

"I agree. Niall likes to tag along with Liam, doesn't he?"

"Mm, yeah. They have a special bond. I can only guess that it comes from sharing a bed."

"They're both heterosexual, aren't they?" Louis asked as he traced over Harry's knuckles.

"Think so...? Why?"

"Just wondering. I first thought they were dating when I saw them."

Harry laughed but was quick to cover it with his hand. "What! Did you really?"

Louis nodded. "Yeah, I did. I mean, they sleep together."

"So do we."

"Oh, baby," Louis spoke with a smile. "That's my point."

Harry gasped and moved closer to Louis. "No way. No. I just—wouldn't hate it. They'd be cute, huh?"

"Incredibly."

Harry hummed and kissed Louis' shoulder. "We're cuter."

"Definitely."


	41. ✿32✿

"You're gonna love her," Harry quietly told Louis as he drove into her driveway.

Louis inhaled before he put the car in park and turned it off. Harry smiled with excitement and turned to see Louis looking nervous. 

"Lou," he gently said. "Are you nervous?"

He exhaled out a laugh. "Well, yeah. It's like meeting a parent, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged, but then furrowed a brow. He's right. His grandmother is like his own parent; she had taken him in and had to put up with his teenager self for a few years, and with his mom and dad gone, she had taken the parent position. Harry suddenly understood Louis' nervousness, but was quick to calm him and let him know she's the sweetest human on earth. They walked to the front door together, but before they could even knock, the door was pulled open and a very happy grandmother stood at the entrance.

"Harry, my boy!" She loudly said as she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "My, how you've grown."

"Same height as last time, Gran."

"No," she spoke in a determined voice, holding him away at arms distance to look him in the eye. "I'm certain you've grown. And your hair!"

Harry looked away and grinned as she jostled her fingers through it. "Gettin' long, huh?"

"So long. But it suits you." She smiled and was about to turn to head inside, when she spotted Louis. Her grin softened and she inspected him up and down. Louis had insisted on wearing his nice shirt and jeans; it sort of resembled the outfit he'd worn on their first date. "You. You must be Louis, hello," she held her hand out to him.

He sucked in a breath and wiped his hands on his jeans before shaking her hand. "Hello, miss. Lovely to meet you. You've got a wonderful home."

She smiled. "Thank you! All it took was a death."

Louis widened his eyes in shock.

Harry nudged Louis and cackled. "She's joking! Gran, ease back on the jokes, you'll scare him away." 

"Nonsense. He looks tough enough."

After being invited in, they all headed into the living area for tea Harry's grandmother had made. Louis was tense for the first few minutes, but the more Harry's grandmother engaged him in conversation, the more comfortable he got. The jokes were continuous, ranging from morbid to light, but that was just the way Gran had always been. Her philosophy was to make joke of anything horrible so that you won't be afraid of them. It seemed to be working for her.

"I've heard a lot about you, you know," She said as she took another sip of her tea.

Louis raised his brows and had a large smile plastered on his lips. "Have you?"

"Mhm," she hummed with the mug between her lips. "Harry here just adores you."

"Graaan," Harry dragged out as a blush crept up along his neck to his cheeks. 

"Well, it's true! When he'd call me, we would always somehow get on the subject of 'Louis and how adorable he looked in a certain outfit,' or something about a bracelet made of flowers that you had worn. He liked to ramble about you. Glad to see you're finally together!"

Harry felt a hand rest on his right shoulder. He turned to look at Louis, face undoubtedly crimson. 

"I've just been dying to know," Louis started. "If you've got any baby pictures of Harry? I need to see some. He's got these pictures of me that he could definitely use for blackmail and I need something too." He paused, then shook his head. "Wait, the pictures he has of me are, like, just me wearing a flower crown that I didn't like. It's embarrassing."

Harry snorted, but the smile was wiped from his face when his Gran shot up and said, "I think I've got some in his old room."

When she left, Harry started to shove Louis and his arm that was wrapped around his shoulders away, not knowing how else to react. "You—" He struggled against Louis trying to fight back. "Butt—" Harry focused on getting his wrists free from Louis' hands. "Face. I—Ugh, just—stop—let me—hey! Ow. Ow. OW. Okay, okay, you win!" Harry shouted after Louis had somehow managed to get Harry into a lying position across the couch with his hands held in Louis' tight grip. He sighed in frustration. "I was an odd child."

Louis had a fond smile on his lips that had Harry melting. "Baby, you're still odd." He brushed his fingers through his hair. "Now, get up. Don't want to see your Gran coming in with your head in me lap; it'll look way too improper."

Harry rolled his eyes. "She's an old woman; she's seen worse."

Louis gave him a stern look so Harry sat up with a huff and a frown, grumbling unhappily to himself for not getting his way. Louis sensed how pouty he was being, so he held his hand out to grasp Harry's, which had him immediately softening down to an internal glare. But that was for being whipped. Harry's too whipped.

Moments later she came in with your typical family photo albums, and laid them across the wooden table in front of them that's probably more expensive than Harry's future home. She grabbed one and started flipping through it, but he started feeling embarrassed when Louis reached for one.

His grandma started pulling out pictures and showing Louis; it wasn't anything too bad, only pictures of him riding a bicycle or playing with his childhood friends. Then Louis started flipping through another photo album, and when he released a sound of victory, Harry stopped breathing.

"Little Harry in the tub!" He happily said.

Harry quickly leaned over to see what Louis was whooping on about. He instantly flushed. It was Harry in a bathtub, at the age of three or so. There weren't bubbles in the tub, only a toy boat, but that was in his hands. Everything else was on display.

"Gran!" He shouted as he snatched the photo from Louis. "Why would you keep this?"

She pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose and squinted as Harry showed her the picture. She waved it away. "Oh, that isn't no big deal. You look adorable in there."

Louis whooped again.

Harry groaned and put the picture face-down on his thigh as he tried to see what Louis found. It was a picture of him crawling on the ground without clothes on.

"Look at that cute baby butt!" He happily said.

Harry placed his hands over his face. "Noooo," he whispered to himself. 

He felt the couch shift so he peeked through his fingers. Louis had gotten up to join Harry's Gran on the floor as they continued to flip through the embarrassing baby photo's of Harry. He stayed put in his seat and watched; he couldn't deny that he loved they were bonding. His grandma meant the world to him, and now so did Louis, so for them to hit it off like this makes him so happy.

\+ + +

Liam sighed out of frustration as he read over the last few paragraphs of his trig notes once again. He hates trigonometry. It shouldn't exist.

"What're you sighin' for?" Niall asked from the kitchen.

"College sucks," he muttered, flipping his notebook closed.

"That's why I didn't go." He walked over to Liam with a glass in his hand. "What's this taste like?"

Liam hesitantly reached out for the glass and sniffed it, and when it didn't smell like straight vodka, he took a sip—then gagged. "It tastes like a mixture of beer and carrots."

"Not good?" Niall asked with a defeated look.

"Not good."

He frowned and sat down beside Liam. He could tell Niall was becoming depressed; he'd been trying for so long to make the most amazing drink that no one had ever created and make a million off of it, but they all ended in disasters. Liam out his notebook on the floor and then reached over to comfort Niall, his arm going around his shoulders.

"You'll get there, don't worry."

"It doesn't seem like it. I've been trying for so long, and it's just . . . either someone else has made it or it tastes bad! I should just give up," Niall moved his hand to his face and rubbed his forehead.

"What? No way, not with me around. You're great at what you do, so don't give up on it. The greats never do, Niall."

Liam was rubbing Niall's shoulder when Niall darted his head so close to Liam's that it shocked him, but not as much as the mouth that was on his own. Liam didn't respond—how would he respond? He waited until Niall pulled away, which wasn't long. Niall was flushed and his eyes were wide and Liam thought he looked the same. They both sat there silently, uncomfortably staring at each other.

So many thoughts were racing through Liam's brain, but he picked at them carefully. Whatever just happened, he needed the right words to react, that way Niall wouldn't feel upset or hurt. 

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give off that vibe." Liam realized his arm was still around Niall and softly pulled it away. 

Niall looked pained. "It—the drinks. Had too many," he quietly said.

Liam nodded, but kept staring at Niall. This was causing a lot of confusion for him and what it all meant. He wasn't going to judge Niall or force him to speak, he loves him to death and wants to see him be himself. 

"Are you...?" Liam started to question. "I mean, it's okay. If you are. If you like...men. If you like me, I guess? I'm not an expert on this, but Harry and Louis could really give you some good advice if you need it."

Niall scooted away from Liam with a sad expression on his face. He didn't know how to get it off and it was hurting him. "I don't need advice. What I'm feeling is something no one would understand."

"You're feeling trapped. Scared. Right? We're here for you—I'm here for you," Liam said as he extended his hand to pat Niall's knee.

Niall jerked his knee so that Liam's hand would fall from it. "Don't do that. What I did—that wasn't supposed to happen."

"It's okay. We can forget about it."

Niall suddenly laughed, but when he turned his head to face Liam, there were tears streaming down his cheeks. "Yeah, okay. That's what I want. Mhm. Mr. Liam Payne, the guy at Uni who has the answer to everything!"

"Niall," Liam quietly said, trying to mask his own hurt, but his voice betrayed him. 

His features softened. "I'm sorry." He inhaled and stood. "I'm being stupid. I think I'm gonna go for a walk or something. Clear my head."

Liam stood too. "No, wait. Why can't we talk about this? We've slept in the same bed together for years, Niall. You know you can tell me anything."

"What we feel is obviously different, Liam. There's no point," Niall spoke, defeated.

Liam frowned and played with his thumbs. So Niall did like him? He felt terrible now for not seeing it this whole time. He felt deeply for Niall, he really did; just not in that way, he thinks. He's never looked at any guy romantically, and he never thought Niall did either. He shouldn't have assumed—it was wrong to—but it's just what he thought was true. Niall is his best friend and he doesn't want him to go away or for anything between them to change. 

When Liam stayed silent, it had only confirmed what Niall felt; he nodded and was out the door before Liam could grab him.

He felt tears rolling down his cheeks; he knew—he felt it—that it was all going to change and he didn't know if he liked that or not. He doesn't want Niall to go away.

\+ + +

It was hours before Niall returned. Liam clocked it at at least three in the morning. He'd been waiting; waiting for Niall to get back so that they could talk because Liam couldn't take it. He barely gets to see Harry anymore and now his other best friend is slipping from his fingers and he's willing to do whatever it takes to keep Niall home and with him. 

He had a look of surprise and worry on his face when he walked through the door, and Liam half-expected him to return with traces of alcohol on his breath, but Niall was completely sober.

"We need to talk," he said, voice quiet; he was tired.

"I know," Niall sighed out, making his way back to the couch and taking a seat. He rubbed his palms together. "I'm sorry for leaving like that. I just needed to clear my head, is all."

"It's okay. I was willing to wait."

Niall cracked a small smile. "I see that."

"I'm just gonna cut right to the point. You're my best friend. I love you, Niall. I don't know what you're feeling right now, but I know that I don't want to lose you."

Niall wasn't looking at Liam, but he was tense. "What are you—what are you saying? Because I'm . . . definitely, like. Boys. Yeah. Um. Wow, okay. What a way to come out. You read about people throwing a party and riding in on a Beyoncé float or baking cakes and pies, but no, I say it like that."

Liam smiled a little and scratched his forehead, wishing he could just rub Niall's shoulder or touch him in some way to comfort him, but he figured it wasn't the best time for it. "Doesn't matter about that. I'm happy for you. Watch Harry make you a Beyoncé float or something. Like him and Louis find out and paint rainbows all over the apartment, I don't know. Harry's quite the flamboyant guy, so he's definitely gonna be stoked about this."

"Oh God, he's gonna wanna paint my nails," Niall whispered to himself in horror.

"As long as it's a pretty color."

They both laughed and eased comfortably onto the couch. Liam stared at Niall. He hadn't realized how nice of a color his skin was before. It's an odd observation, but his skin and hair and eyes gave him such a porcelain look. It was kinda . . . beautiful. Then he sighed and furrowed his eyebrows.

"So you like me."

Niall glanced at Liam and nodded slowly, looking ashamed.

"I don't think I've ever seen a guy and thought: yeah, he's hot. I don't know how to feel or if I even swing that way."

"That's okay. I didn't know either until a few months ago. I mean, not just out of the blue. I've always had the thoughts, you know? I was just great at ignoring them. But eventually, secrets come out. Kinda nice to have it out there, though."

"So you've never . . . experienced with a guy like that?" Liam quietly asked, feeling a heat rise to his cheeks. He felt something else, too, as he thought about himself experimenting with a boy, surprisingly.

"Um, no. Not really," Niall slowly said, brows furrowed as he stared at Liam. "Why?"

"Well. Don't you, like, want to?"

Niall was turning red in the face too. "I mean, yeah. I guess."

"How do I know I'm not unless I . . . you know."

Niall looked confused, but the longer he stared, the more time he had to process. He inhaled through his nose and cleared his throat. "So you want—you want to . . ."

"Would it be so harmful?" Liam quietly asked.

Niall didn't say anything; he just shook his head and nervously ran his hand through his hair. Liam somehow knew Niall would be too timid to do anything, so he took it upon himself to scoot closer, place a hand on the back of his neck, and guide they're heads closer together. Niall was breathing heavily, but Liam had kept a steady breathing pattern as he leaned closer to Niall's lips. They were a pink-ish color and his mouth honestly looked so buttery smooth—another thing he hadn't noticed about Niall before. Then they kissed. It was sweet and gentle as they worked their mouths together. It was odd that it felt right—so right. It felt good, and for best friends, surprisingly not awkward. They kissed, and continued kissing. And Liam liked it. Liam liked it and there were tingly feelings deep in the pit of his stomach that made him feel something he hadn't felt in a while.

"I like that," Liam quietly said when they pulled away, only to reconnect their lips out of eagerness. He really liked it.


	42. ❁33❁

Harry's grandmother was very traditional and didn't even think much about it as she had shown Louis his bedroom that night. It wasn't like Harry expected to sleep with him anyway. Louis just found it amusing that he had to sneak out of his room to kiss his boyfriend goodnight before tiptoeing back into it.

They both slept late, exhausted for some unknown reason, and surprisingly, Louis was up before Harry was. His grandmother and Louis were chatting with mugs of tea in their hands while sitting in the kitchen, and Harry really wished he would have had a camera when he walked in to that picture. It was beyond lovely seeing Louis getting along with his Gran; she meant the world to him, and for them to be chatting and sipping tea and laughing like they'd known each other for so much longer made him feel so bubbly.

He had grabbed a mug and poured his tea without them realizing, and now, he wonders if he should interrupt their conversation or just longer back. He decided to interrupt it because he didn't want to be left out. 

He walked to the counter and grinned as he sipped his tea, waiting for them to turn their heads and acknowledge them, but when that didn't happen, he couldn't help but pout. He stepped only a tiny bit closer to Louis and kissed his cheek.

"Morning," he grumbled, but when turning to his Gran and kissing her cheek, he smiled and spoke much cheerfully.

"Harry! Didn't hear you come in. Have some tea, will you? Louis made it." She looked down to his hands and put her hand to her forehead. "I didn't even notice."

Harry grinned and shrugged. "What were you guys talking about?"

Louis hopped up and kissed Harry on his temple. "Good morning," he spoke, then quickly sat down. Harry blushed. "We were discussing tattoos and how your Grandmother wants one."

"Oh, please. Call me Edith."

Harry wished he hadn't have taken a large gulp of his tea when Louis said that. He choked and banged on his chest, somehow scarred. "Gran!"

"What? You've got a few. Let me be wild for a change!" She argued.

He was wide-eyed in disbelief and looked down at his tattoos. He was at a loss for words, really. "They hurt. Are you—Is that safe?" He turned to Louis.

Louis smiled a shy smile. Harry stared, and, with thought, assumed Louis really liked being asked about tattoos. "It is safe, yeah. You're in great health, if I may say so myself. As long as you take care of it while it's healing, then it'll be perfectly fine."

Harry crinkled his nose and shoved his shoulder. "Way to help me out."

Louis threw his hands up. "Hey! Just being honest."

Harry sipped his tea and went over to the food his Gran whipped up. Pancakes and bacon. His grandmother's pancakes were the most heavenly thing anyone could possibly eat. He made sure to get two of each, and made sure to pour on a lot of syrup. They continued their talk about how safe it was for her, and as Harry sat down at the bar with them, he realized just how serious his Gran was being.

"What would you even get?" 

"Maybe something of you and Gemma," she said.

Harry hunched his shoulders, a little defeated. It was so sweet of her to want that. After eating a little bit of his pancakes, he sighed and scratched his head. "Like what?"

His Gran suddenly clapped and got out of her seat with a grin on her face. She walked to Harry and wrapped an arm around hhis shoulders. "Oh, I'm glad you're on board!"

Harry shrugged and grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth.

"Especially since Louis and I are playing a joke on you."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and turned around with his mouth agape, flickering his between Louis and his Gran. He shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "Getting you two together is the worst mistake I've ever made."

\+ + +

After kissing his Gran goodbye and filling Louis' car with as many flowers as he could, they began to head home. Louis wasn't going to let Harry forget about the joke they pulled on him, saying it took everything within him not to burst out in laughter. Harry only rolled his eyes and reached over to turn up the music.

The weekend was perfect. Louis got along with his grandmother better than he could have expected. Of course Harry had told her about the whole Cal thing. Her face was blank throughout the time of mentioning him, and all she had to say was that people always get what they deserve. Nothing else about Cal was spoken after that.

His Gran told him to take the flowers in the greenhouse before she drowned them in water; a pain, those were, she'd say. But when Harry offered to come by regularly to take the load off her, she denied multiple times and said she needed an excuse to get out of the house. And deep down she really liked the flowers.

Every time Harry is loaded full of flowers, the boys hate it. Mostly because Liam had terrible allergies and it gets him cranky, and since Niall spends the most time with Liam, Niall begins to get cranky, and then Harry gets cranky, and then everyone is cranky. It's a huge, grouchy mess, but it's his living. It's his job. And opening up a flower shop seems ages away, a dream that will only live inside of a daydreamers mind. 

Harry doesn't like loving something so much and not being exactly official at it. He hates seeing people do it all the time, because it makes him go: hey, that's my dream! They're living his dream and they don't even know it. He feels upset with himself that he's let himself slip away from flowers for so long. Although he had good reasons, it's just no excuse to him. He plans on getting up bright and early the next day and working. Working at his flower stand and doing what has made him happy. Even better now that he's with Louis and that they're so close together.

They arrived at Harry's apartment in the evening, and spend many back-and-forth trips to get all the flowers in the apartment.

One thing was for sure: something was off.

The moment Harry walked into the flat, it was like everything in the room was switched to the other side; the feeling he had was that distinct.

Louis was staring at Harry like he was a crazy person, especially when his mind drifted to: What would Sherlock do?

He looked around the room with narrowed eyes. 

The remote was crammed in between the cushions. It's never misplaced because they all care about TV too much to harm the remote. He walked over to it and pulled it out, holding it up to Louis with wide eyes. When Louis was about to speak, he held his finger up to silence him.

House keys.

House keys were thrown onto the coffee table. Harry stared, and raised an eyebrow when the keys unmistakably belonged to Niall. It wouldn't be that weird, no. Except Niall has OCD; he hates leaving his things scattered around unless he was rushed.

But rushed for what? 

Harry scratched his chin and inspected the place once more, slowly realizing he'd have to go into the probable crime scene area to really figure out what's happened and why he feels like something went down. So there he goes, straight for Niall and Liam's room. 

He opened the door and ducked his head in, but quickly pulled his head back and shut the door as quietly as he could before walking away.

Somehow he ended up in the kitchen. He didn't know how.

Louis walked in with his brows raised and head tilted. "Well? What is it, you weirdo?"

Harry inhaled deeply and looked at Louis, mouth opening to tell him, but then he heard a door open, and soon, Liam and Niall were in the kitchen with uncomfortable expressions.

Their clothes and hair were messed up, and you really didn't have to be Sherlock to figure out what was going on.

"Did you just...?" Liam asked, jabbing his thumb in the direction his room is in.

Harry nodded and looked between them. When he was sure no one was going to interrupt him, he suddenly broke out into a sudden squeal and hopped over to Liam and Niall, tugging them close to him and kissing them each on top of the head. "My Liam! My Niall!" He squeezed them. "Dating! I can't believe it, I can't. I just—my mind is—" He moved his arms off their shoulders so that he could motion with his hands that his brain had exploded. "Oh my God!" He clapped and hugged them each. "We could totally go on double dates. How cute would that be? Louis! Wouldn't that be cute?" Harry shouted, pulling away from them to look at his boyfriend.

Louis scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "You two are together?"

Liam opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes!" Harry said. "They were making out."

Louis stared at Harry with a blank expression, then motioned him to come to him with his index finger. The smile slowly left his face as he pouted and walked over to Louis. 

"What?" He grumbled.

"I just need you to calm down," Louis said while rubbing Harry's back. He looked at Liam. "Tell me—or don't tell me—is what my overexcited Harry talking about true?"

Liam looked at Niall, nervous. Niall was just blushing. "We were kissing, yes."

Louis cracked a small smile. "So you two like each other, then?" He gently asked, his voice giving off a feel of relaxation and less pressure to be so talkative about it yet.

Niall looked at Liam with a certain expression on his face that Harry couldn't make out.

Liam finally spoke. "Yeah."

Niall exhaled and smiled, his smile widening even more when Liam pulled him into a side embrace. "We like each other. Right?"

Niall nodded, in a daze. "Yeah."

Louis smiled and pinched Harry's lower back when Harry started to rock back and forth on his feet from excitement. "I'm happy for you two!" Louis said, nodding in their direction.

"Thanks," they both replied.

Harry kept his mouth firmly shut until they both left in awkward silence, and when they did, Harry turned to Louis and couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Louis Tomlinson! How dare you keep me from talking to them. I had so many questions and I—I couldn't ask them because you just . . . you just do that thing! The thing where you're so—ugh! I wanted to know who made the first move. I need to know what started this all. I didn't even know they were—that they liked—I am so angry. I want to know everything; I need to know everything! Oh my. Oh my! Niall! He called me once and started asking me for advice about someone he liked and—whoa, it was Liam! Was he talking about Liam? Louis! I'm just so angry that you kept me quiet! I need to know so many things and—"

Louis pressed his lips to Harry's and kissed him.

Harry was hesitant about kissing back since he wasn't done with his rant, but the feeling of Louis' lips on his own made him weak.

When they pulled apart, Harry huffed. "Rude."

Louis laughed. "How so?"

"You won't let me talk and then you try shutting me up," he sighed.

"In my defense, I didn't tell you to be quiet."

Harry frowned and crossed his arms. "It was that—that look. You get this look and I just feel like I have to do what you're telepathically telling me to."

Louis smiled and kissed Harry's forehead. "My good kitten."

"Shut up . . . bear." Harry hated he wasn't angry anymore. 

Louis hugged him and kissed his nose, and then that was that. They made sure all the flowers were watered and adjusted in their pots correctly before Louis left to go to his home and sleep. Harry didn't fight with him on that, knowing the roommates needed to have a conversation in the A.M. A long one, with details.

So Harry went to bed with all types of scenarios playing in his head on how Liam and Niall started it all, which may now sound strange since they are his best friends. He ended up having a dream about it and woke up disgusted for having dreamt his best friends making out.


	43. ✿34✿

Harry had his chin in the palm of his hand as he admired Liam and Niall at the table eating together. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, they always ate together, but now they're kind of dating and it just makes it one-hundred times better. 

"Harry, you've gotta stop staring," Liam groaned.

Harry smiled and sipped his juice. "Tell me," he started. "What started this?"

"We already told you, H," Niall said as he jabbed at his eggs.

"I'm just . . . so happy."

"We know," Liam muttered.

"We could, like, go bowling and do it like couples against couples! How awesome would that be?" Harry spoke, beginning to imagine it.

"Harry, we haven't even been on a date yet."

Harry looked at Liam and raised a brow. "So!"

He suddenly stood. "I'm gonna be late," Liam said with a roll of his eyes. He ran his fingers through Niall's hair. "I'll see you for lunch."

Right after Liam left, Harry gave Niall a look. A look that consisted of wiggling brows and making guns with his fingers as he shot them. "Lunch."

Niall shook his head but had a smile on his face as he got up from his chair. "I'm gonna go do things since I'm up. You should get these flowers out soon, dude."

"I know, I know," muttered Harry. 

Soon the sound of a closing door hit his ears and he sighed, checking his phone. Louis would be here soon to help him load the flowers in his car and take him to his flower stand. He's happy. Beyond happy, really. He can't wait to get back to his job and do what he loves.

He got dressed up for the work day; his shirt was made of a silky and thin material, and decorated with cutely cartooned strawberry cacti in brown jars. He loved wearing pink, that's for sure, and this had to be his new favorite shirt. And since it was a warm July day, he decided to wear shorts. Now shorts were something he never really wore, because he thought it made the outfit a little too casual. He's all for casual, but his black jeans seemed to always pull outfits together and make him look better. The shorts were denim and came down eight inches down his thighs. It wasn't too long, but wasn't too short either. He felt comfortable in them.

He got a text from Louis that said he was here, so he hurried over to the door to let Louis in. He may have given Louis a key to the building (but only because the buzzer was broken), so. Wasn't anything too major. 

He left the door cracked and tugged at his shorts, not used to them (he was starting to feel a little self-conscious, too. His legs haven't seen day before, so they were very pale), but grabbed as many flowers as he could in his arms. He heard Louis enter behind him and turned around to give him a smile.

"Just grab what you can carry," Harry said as he walked over to Louis, pausing to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Wait," Louis said as Harry started to walk to the door. He had a finger running over his lower lip and his eyes were on Harry's legs. "You look really cute today."

Harry flushed and ducked a little behind his flowers to hide his blush and smile. "Thank you," he quietly said. He would never get used to compliments, he decided. Especially from Louis. They will always make him blush from shock.

Louis had grabbed some flowers and followed Harry downstairs as they placed them in the car, each repeating the process until they successfully crammed them into the car. Flowers were placed in Harry's lap when Louis started to drive in for work; it wasn't a long drive, so he started to quickly (and carefully) take the flowers nicknamed Black-eyed Susan and decorate them in Louis' hair. Louis didn't protest, just curled his lip in displeasure for brief moments before sighing it away and letting Harry do as he pleases.

The yellow complimented Louis' soft-brown hair so nicely and Harry noted to himself to make Louis a flower crown of them later. 

Soon they arrived and unloaded the car, and Harry thanked him with a quick kiss on the lips. Then Harry got to work.

He had to, with a heavy heart, throw out the dead flowers he neglected for the time he had taken his break from work. But then his heart filled with joy when he started to decorate his stand with all the flowers he'd recently gotten. He made sure all the flowers had enough water before he took his seat and grabbed his scissors to start in on making Louis his crown.

"You're back!" A male voice shouted.

Harry looked up and squinted; it was a guy who came buy a lot (because when he got drunk he'd accidentally tell his girlfriend stupid things that got him in trouble) and always bought a lot of his flowers. Sadly, it was nearly a weekly thing. It's sad because he got himself in trouble with his girlfriend so much.

"Hi!" He said and stood up, waving.

"Where have you been? I've had to settle on getting her something from this shitty place run by an old woman."

Harry laughed and placed his hands on the metal railing to his stand, shrugging. "Just took a small break. Are you in trouble again? Should I pull out her favorites?"

The guy smiled softly and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. I quit drinking, too. Well, I'm going to tell her that tonight. So make them extra big and nice for me, will ya?"

"Sure thing," Harry grinned.

He really loved his job.

\+ + +

The first half of his day wasn't spent too busy, so he filled it with trying to get Louis' flower crown done. They were planning on having lunch together in Louis' room, so Harry was hoping to get it ready by then.

He was happy he got it finished up on time, though. It wasn't the best one he'd ever made, but it wasn't awful. With careful hands he picked it up and headed inside to see Louis. He's certain he's waiting on Harry to join him for lunch, so he just walks in.

Boy, was that a mistake.

"Oh my goodness!" He shouted and hurriedly backed away to close the door.

He just saw a woman shirtless. She was bare! He frowned and ran to the front desk to sit with Zayn, his eyes wide in shock; he was definitely scarred.

"They stared right at me," he quietly said, his flowers still delicately held in his hands.

"What're you going on about, man?" Zayn asked with his brow raised.

"Big, big, big woman parts!"

"Harry!" Louis said as he burst into the room, stopping in front of the desk with a puff of air. "I forgot to text you that I had a walk-in."

"I . . . I walked in on something I wished I hadn't."

Louis laughed and glanced at Zayn. "A lady wanted her sisters name on her heart. She past away from breast cancer and I had to do an awkward under-boob thing."

"Oh," Harry quietly said. He understood. He hated that he understood though, and frowned. "I was only shocked. I didn't expect to see anyone nude today."

"Oh, right," Louis nodded. "Because that was scheduled for tomorrow?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Shut up."

"Make me."

Zayn cleared his throat. "My desk. Leave. No room for couples."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Zayn and stood from his chair to walk to Louis, who was waiting for him at the edge of the desk. The lady that was shirtless (not anymore) walked out and thanked Louis (Harry apologized for walking in), and then she went to the desk to pay. Together they headed back into Louis' room, and there awaited two Firehouse Subs sandwiches. Harry felt a new sensation of happiness wash over him; for months he'd watch Louis go to Firehouse Subs for lunch, and now Louis' bringing them to Harry. What a thoughtful boyfriend.

"I made you something!" Harry said with a smile as he moved to sit on Louis' lap. Louis always sat in his little rolling chair, and Harry sat in the comfy one where Louis did his tattoos, but he decided he wanted to be closer to Louis and this was the way to do it.

"Oh," he let out in surprise, his hand holding Harry's sandwich. He dropped it on the table and placed a hand on Harry's hip. "What did you make me?"

Harry felt his stomach flutter from the smile on his face. "Close your eyes first."

Louis raised a brow.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just do it."

Louis slowly closed his eyes and Harry admired how long his lashes were. Quickly he leaned close to place a soft kiss to his closed eye before pulling away and laying the flower crown on Louis' head. Harry remembered how embarrassed he was to wear it last time in front of Liam and Niall, and that made Harry feel a little bad, but Louis looked so cute in it. 

"Okay," Harry quietly said. "You won't like it, but. It's cute. You're cute." Harry kissed his nose.

"I lose bits of my manhood every time you call me cute," Louis grumbled while opening his eyes.

Harry shrugged. "You're hot, then. Manly enough for you?"

"Handsome is good too."

Harry giggled and lifted his hand to cover his mouth.

"There's a flower crown on my head, isn't there?"

"No," he tried saying with a straight face.

Louis released a small groan and pinched Harry's hip. "If Zayn saw me wearing this, I'd never hear the end of it."

"You can take it off," Harry said. He shouldn't be hurt that Louis didn't want to wear it; Louis didn't like that stuff, yet he made it anyway. It just looked so nice with his blue eyes and brown hair and tattooed skin and pierced lip. 

Louis' eyes searched Harry's, and that made him look away. Louis was so good at reading Harry that it was ridiculous; one look in his eyes and Louis would know everything Harry feels.

"I'll wear it around you," Louis quietly said, kissing on Harry's cheek.

Harry laughed and held Louis' cheeks with his thumb and forefinger, making his lips puff out. Harry started to squish his mouth and kept at it until Louis pinched Harry's thigh again. He stopped and reached for his sandwich on the table beside Louis.

"What did you get me?" He asked, then unwrapped his sandwich. It had a lot of veggies and mayonnaise and bits of chicken and bacon in there. Harry's stomach grumbled. "Are you okay with me sitting here?"

"I don't think you'd move if I told you to."

Harry grinned and wrapped his arm around Louis' neck, stroking the hairs at the nape and twirling the growing strands between his fingers. "You know me mighty well."

Louis raised a brow and swiveled the chair; Harry released a surprised noise and held onto his shoulder, watching as Louis reached for his sandwich. "Have you been watching Thor?"

"No. How dare you accuse me of watching those moving people trapped in boxes. My big hammer will be thy death."

"Oh, my sweet, innocent Harry," Louis sighed out gently, rubbing Harry's back. "Thy big hammer might serve me great pleasure."

Harry raised a brow while taking a bite from his food. He tried to recall anything being pleasurable from Thor's weapon, but couldn't figure it out. Louis was staring right into Harry's eyes, expectant, but Harry looked away with a thoughtful brow furrowed. He just didn't get it. Louis eventually ended up stroking Harry's arm and whispered something like, "innocent giraffe" and continued on eating his sandwich.

\+ + +

Everything was put in its place when Harry put his flowers up and locked it all securely. Louis was waiting for him in the car; they decided to go to Louis' house (more like Harry decided) to give Liam and Niall some alone time. 

Harry was going to cook for Louis and make him this big, ridiculous meal just because he could and just because he loved Louis.

"You're wearing it." He pointed to the flowers in Louis' hair.

"I ended up forgetting to take it off and wore it the entire day," he laughed out, his confident voice not covering the subtle hint of pink splashing on his cheeks. "I told Zayn I'd rip a certain something off and feed that certain something to piranha's if he teased me." 

Harry held his thumb out. "That's my man."

The rest of the car ride was spent listening to Louis' music until they arrived to his building. Thoughts were swimming around Harry's brain about what he could cook (Louis only had cereal and bread and milk and eggs before Harry became his boyfriend), knowing he'd been grocery shopping to stock Louis' fridge up not too long ago. It had started raining when he got out of the car, so both of them rushed to the door, unlocked it, took the elevator up (it was finally fixed), raced to his apartment, and then hurried inside. Louis had given Harry a sweater to wear before he went back down to get his mail.

Harry raided the cabinets and fridge, finding a box of uncooked noodles and other ingredients he knew wouldn't go great in Alfredo sauce. He got straight into cooking it; he hadn't made chicken Alfredo in so long that he had to google recipes to refresh his memory. His mother could make the best chicken Alfredo, that he remembered. He'd spent a long time trying to get it to taste like hers years ago, but never could. He figured that love really was the secret ingredient. That's what she always used to say. Hopefully his love for Louis will spark up that extra thing it needed.

He heard Louis walk in and head straight to his room. Most likely to change; and he knew Harry didn't like being messed with while cooking. Louis found that out the hard way (the spatula was in his hand. It was a reflex to hit Louis' arm when he started to mess with Chinese food). 

Harry glanced over his shoulder when he heard the bedroom door open. Louis hadn't changed, but held a letter in his hand. Harry didn't think much of it—Louis went to get mail, it's obvious he'd be reading it. So he went back to his sauce and boiling water.

It was silent for a few minutes. Then the silence carried out. For the longest time, a quietness (apart from the noises of Harry's chopping) was left uninterrupted. Until Louis exhaled loudly and sniffled and Harry couldn't turn around quick enough. He'd wished he had turned sooner, because he didn't know how long Louis was sitting at his little bar and silently crying to himself. Harry immediately took the pots off the heated stove and threw the rag that sat on his shoulder to the side, quickly going to Louis. He sat down beside him and rubbed his arm, and then Louis just sobbed and rested his head against Harry's shoulder, crying out.

Harry's heart broke.

Louis was crying so loudly and brokenly, and Harry didn't know what to do. He looked at the letter on the counter and furrowed his eyebrows, reaching out to grab it and read it. 

dearest Louis,

it is me. Daisy. phoebe didn't want to participate in this letter because she's far too afraid of getting caught by mum. I understand why you haven't called or visited and stuff like that, but I really miss you. I was just a little thing when everything happened and remembering your voice gets harder and harder each day. Louis I'm asking you to come back, come visit at least. mum misses you. she may not tell you but she does and we all do. mum had twins. they're 2 now and their names are Doris and Ernest. they're the cutest little things! please don't let them grow without their older brother ): we love you. I love you. what happened with Lots wasn't your fault Louis. mum is sad because she didn't just lose one child, she lost two. I think seeing you again would make everyone so happy. we're still in the same house. I miss you I don't want to forget your voice. please call soon x

love, Daisy 

(don't laugh at my terrible doodles on the back page!!)

Harry gulped and held Louis even tighter. From what Harry knows, he hasn't talked to them in years. His sisters—everyone must miss Louis dearly.

"Haven't talked to your sisters?" Harry quietly asked when the loud noises from not being able to breathe due to crying so hard ceased.

"I used to send her money, my mother. When I got a job. Then she started returning it and I got the gist. She didn't want to hear from me. She didn't want anything to do with me." Louis took deep breaths.

"Daisy misses you," Harry quietly said. He kissed Louis' soft hair.

Louis was crying again. "I miss her too! It's just—she could've . . . Jay could have reached out to me. It's a two-way street here. I figured none of them wanted me around. And it sounds like talking to me was forbidden because Phoebe was too scared to get involved because she might get in trouble!" He quickly rushed out.

Harry pressed his lips together. His thoughts weren't what mattered. It didn't matter that he thought Louis should go see his family. Louis is hurt and crying and that's what he should focus on. "Of course your sisters miss you, Louis. Jay does too. They're your family. You don't have to think so much about this right now. Look at it like this . . . Daisy is saying she loves you and misses you, and that's a step. It's a small step. You don't have to hop in your car and drive all the way to Doncaster to see your entire family, but maybe you can write Daisy back. And match her flower doodles on the back of the paper."

Louis laughed through his tears and rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, using the other to flip the paper around to stare at the flowers.

"I think I can write her back. I don't think I can see all of them, though. That's just too much."

"That's okay," Harry gently said as he rubbed Louis' back. "Baby steps." Harry peppered kisses across Louis' cheek until he smiled. "I love you. Wanna help me with dinner?"

"That's how I know you love me. You're letting me go near dinner."

Of course Louis took Harry up on helping with the food; Harry knows Louis likes helping, but he could see that he wanted to busy himself to get his mind away from his family. 

Harry felt conflicted; he wanted to push Louis to see his family. That letter was an invitation for him to come home, and Harry wouldn't think twice about seeing his mother again if he could. Harry wanted to say that he should cherish his family while he can, before they all grow up and decide that they don't want to see him anymore. They might look at him as The Brother That Abandoned Us, not the brother that's scared to come home and thinks he murdered his sister.

Harry gulped and pushed away his feelings and thoughts, locking them away, and focused on the rest of the night, which was spent with him trying to fill the evening with as much conversation as he could. He figured talking would keep Louis' brain preoccupied. 

But then night rolled around and Harry worried Louis would start to think on it again, so Harry rolled close to Louis and cuddled him so hard, as if to squeeze the pain out of him. He was aware of how uncomfortable Louis might be, but Harry didn't care. He kissed Louis' bare chest and tangled his fingers in his hair and hummed to Louis the way Louis did when Harry was having a bad night. Their legs were tangled and eyes were drooping and he just remembered he left the TV on in the living room, but didn't move a muscle. 

Then Harry sharply inhaled.

"You meant my dick instead of Thor's hammer."


	44. ❁35❁

Harry's hands tightly fisted Louis' hair as he backed him to his bed, and Harry fell back on it and motioned with his hands for Louis to step closer so that they could continue their heated kissing session. 

Louis lightly pushed Harry back against the bed; Harry inhaled through his nose and looked up at the ceiling when Louis' lips traveled down his neck. He absentmindedly dug his nail-bitten fingernails into Louis' shoulder blades when he sucked on a certain spot on Harry's neck. Harry was gasping and felt so good being close to Louis like this, especially when Louis was touching him all over. Harry always got flustered when Louis touched his thighs, and that's exactly what he started doing. 

"Keep still," Louis muttered against Harry's neck.

Harry inhaled through his nose and stopped his fidgeting (it's something he always did because he wasn't entirely sure how to move his legs or place his hands; his mind left him when he was with Louis). Instead of thinking about how close his legs should be together, he spread them and kept his fingers busy by putting them in the loops in Louis' jeans to tug him closer.

"Eager, are we?" Louis laughed.

His voice sounded so confident and cocky and Harry just shivered. But then he didn't know if it was from the way Louis spoke or the hands unbuttoning his jeans. 

"I can't believe you," shouted a sudden voice in the living room.

Louis and Harry jumped apart, eyes wide and alert as they quickly fixed their clothes and hair. Both of them stared at the door. Harry looked at Louis and wasn't sure if he should let Niall and Liam know they were there.

"I couldn't help that, Niall!" Liam shouted back.

Louis moved closer to Harry and started to kiss his neck again.

"Louis!" Harry hissed out, trying to get him to stop. "They're gonna find out we're in here."

"Not if we're quiet."

Harry laughed and put his palm over Louis' mouth to stop him so that he could listen in on their argument.

"You didn't tell anyone because you're ashamed," Niall quietly said.

Harry frowned.

"Ashamed? Is that what you think?" 

Louis licked Harry's palm, which had him pulling back with a frown in disgust. He wiped his hand in Louis' hair.

"I don't even know what we are. And this just happened! Do you expect me to have it shouted every time some girl comes up to say hi to me?" Liam continued.

"No," Niall quietly said.

"Their first fight," Louis whispered.

Harry nodded and looked at Louis. His skin—tan and so soft—always made him look so huggable. His hair was doing its own thing today, and Harry really liked that because natural Louis is the best Louis. His eyelashes looked particularly long today and Harry just wanted butterfly kisses from him, but Harry doubted he even knew what that was.

"Have we fought yet?"

"About me not having a vacuum." He rolled his eyes.

Harry nodded and formed a thin line with his lips. "Mm, yeah. Still can't believe you went without one."

Louis leaned close and bit lightly on Harry's shirt that covered his shoulder. "I managed."

"Messily."

It was quiet in the other room so Harry stood and thought it was best to make themselves known at that time. Both of them hesitantly walked out to see Liam channel surfing and Niall busying himself in the kitchen. They both looked exhausted from what previously happened, so telepathically, Louis and Harry decided to head out and get Chinese and eat at Louis' flat.

Harry believed Liam and Niall would work things out; it didn't seem like the fight was that major, in his eyes. But all fights seem like they can be worked out if you're not the one in them. 

Harry talked about how he hadn't visited his Mom in a while, and so Louis agreed they'd go tomorrow so he could visit his sister. And then Harry started to think about how small of a world it is for them to have buried their loved ones in the same place, and how fate really did work them together—through heartache and pain—but together nonetheless. He didn't tell Louis this, just stared at him lovingly and held his hand and felt his heart swell because of how much he loved him. 

And when they got to the flat, they ate until their stomachs were full and they decided to start a new show on Netflix. But then Harry was staring at the letter that arrived to Louis the previous week from his sister and felt himself frown. Louis read it everyday but had yet to reply. It'd make him sad reading it, and Harry would give him little nudges toward trying to write her back, but he never would. 

Then he heard Louis snore beside him and jumped, concentration broken, and deciding that he'd wake him up so he could get to bed. He did with a groan and knocked his shoulder against the doorframe since he was walking with his eyes closed, but then fell on the bed with another groan, and then more snores followed. Harry's mind was trying to tell him that what he was going to do wasn't the best idea, but he didn't listen.

He turned and headed for the junk drawer in the kitchen. It was filled with stamps and pens and pencils and paper. He picked up a pencil and searched for a blank piece of paper, and when he had it in hand, he moved over to the counter and took a seat and tapped the pencil against his cheek.

He constantly glanced over his shoulder out of paranoia to make sure Louis didn't stroll into the room.

Dear Daisy,

He sighed and gulped. He decided that he wouldn't talk about them being together; that felt like it was something Louis should do, should he choose to contact them.

You don't know me, but I know you because Louis talks about you and your sisters a lot. I'm a friend of Louis'. The name's Harry, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed since it's not Louis replying back to you. But he's read your letter so many times and loves you all so much. I hope you know that. He's afraid of ruining the life you've all made for yourselves by coming back, and he doesn't want you all hating him. The news of him having a new brother and sister that he never knew of hurt him, and he feels like he's not needed there anymore. I'm trying to work on him, trust me. I want him to visit because family is so important to me, as it is to him, so be patient, love. Keep writing to Louis, okay? He'll come around, I think, if you and your sisters try to convince him to come visit. Don't lose hope.

Sincerely, Harry.

\+ + +

Harry was reading a book on Louis' couch when he walked inside and slammed the door behind him. Harry jumped and placed a hand over his heart, looking up just as Louis angrily threw down a piece of paper on the coffee table and started pacing back and forth.

Harry, confused, put down his book and reached for the paper. It was a letter.

Harry, I hope you're taking care of our big brother! Phoebe finally agreed to write letters with me, so we're taking your advice and we're going to send more letters now. We love Louis!! we want him to see us and he's welcome and mum needs an excuse to cook a big meal and I think this would be a great one, so we'll try to get her thinking about Lou and then we won't have to send letters in secrecy because soon she'll be asking where all the stamps went and I don't think saying "they grew legs and ran" would be a good enough lie. give Louis our love, Harry! thank you for writing back to us, we were getting so anxious! 

love, Phoebe and Daisy.

Harry bit his lower lip and scanned over the words again, not wanting to look up at Louis since he was mad, so he decided to give himself some time to get ready for the words that will come from him. Slowly he looked up. Louis was staring with his arms crossed, his mouth shut, and jaw clenched.

"I—"

"No," Louis said, holding his finger out. Harry pressed his lips together. "You don't get to talk yet."

Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"What made you think you could talk to my little sister without my involvement? They're not your family! And, Jesus, you—why? Why did you do this?" Louis gestured to Harry with his hand angrily.

"I don't—"

"Now they're never going to stop! They're going to keep on sending letters until I reply or until they get caught by Jay, because she most likely doesn't want them talking to their brother. You should have told me, Harry. Instead you went behind my back. Do you know how that feels?"

"I didn't mean to—"

"They haven't heard from me in years and then they get a letter from my boyfriend that they've never met! You sneaky shit, thinking it's okay to talk to my family without my consent. Well it's not! It's not. I'm not okay with that, Harry! Out of all the people—" Louis stopped and inhaled, face red and veins protruding from his neck. "I didn't expect you to do anything like this. Ever. And—"

Harry huffed and stood, trying to be defiant, but the way he nervously played with his thumbs only reminded him that he's not as strong as he'd like to be. "I'm going to talk now. You can't tell me when I can or can't because it doesn't work like that." He swallowed and avoided Louis' eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he quietly said. "I just wanted to give them hope because—I don't know. It just sounded like Daisy was losing hope and I don't want them to be without their brother. Louis," he started, walking around the coffee table to get to him. "You have a mother and step-father and an entire family waiting for you. I just . . . I wish I had that, okay? I didn't want you missing out on them. Family's important and . . ." Harry trailed off and sighed, not knowing what he should say. He wanted to say so much but the words were so jumbled in his head that he couldn't come out with them.

"You kept it hidden from me," Louis quietly said. "That hurt. What else have you hidden from me?"

Harry inhaled and felt like he was going to cry. "Nothing, I promise." He reached out for Louis, but Louis took a step back. That broke him. Harry couldn't help but start crying.

"Just because I have a family and you don't doesn't mean I should see them."

Louis wasn't looking at Harry, but frowned when he let out a loud cry of sadness. Harry wasn't going to run off and hide—he was going to fix this. He was going to hold back his tears and fix it.

"I thought I was helping."

"Yeah, well. You weren't. What else will you do to help me?"

Harry was quiet; he was shocked, to say the least. For Louis to talk about him not having a proper family like that hurt him. But he didn't want to leave, because he loves Louis and he wants to work through this. Fights happen all the time between couples, he thought to himself. They always work through it. So he stepped closer to Louis and quickly grabbed his hand before he could step away. 

"Look at me," Harry whispered. "Please look at me."

Louis did, but Harry couldn't find any emotion in his eyes nor face. And it terrified him. "I'm sorry," he said, placing his hands on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Louis. I'm so sorry and I won't butt in again, all right? I'll let you deal with it. I know I don't have proper family, and that clouded my mind."

There was a crack through Louis' blank facade, and then Harry saw it. He saw the regret on his face.

"I shouldn't have said that," said Louis. "I'm just . . . you hurt me, Harry, and I don't deal with hurt very conventionally."

"It's okay."

"I made you cry." And then the wall came down. "Oh my God, I made you cry. I hurt you. Because I'm so messed up and I hurt people when I'm sad."

"It's okay," Harry said again, trying to calm Louis down. "I'm okay. I just want you to be okay and for us to be okay. I love you and I don't want to lose you."

"No," Louis said as he shook his head. He pulled Harry into a hug. "You won't lose me." And he held Harry so tightly and ran his fingers through his long hair. "You hurt me, though. You really did. You have to promise to never do anything like that ever again. No secrets."

"No secrets," Harry repeated against Louis' neck. 

"What did you write to her?"

Harry told him what he'd written as they both sat down on the couch together. Louis was quiet and listened, and looked sad throughout the story. 

"So I guess I should write them," he mumbled.

Harry only shrugged; he wasn't going to tell him his thoughts, not after what just happened. When he sent that letter a few days ago, he never would have thought that it would blow up into a big fight like this. He thought Daisy would just spam Louis with letters, not write him back. 

"Do whatever you think you should do," Harry said instead. 

Louis only nodded and settled back against the sofa. He looked tired as he ran a hand over his face, and only now did Harry notice the worry lines on his brows had begun wrinkling permanently. 

"One time this girl in my class was annoying me and would always purposely stick her long hair all over my side of the desk, and at nap time, I was so annoyed that I snuck a pair of scissors over to her and cut it off. She woke up screaming."

Louis laughed and pulled his hand away from his face. "What?"

Harry smiled. "You said no secrets. I've never told anyone that."

Then Louis told a secret. And it went that way for so long, the both of them sharing their secrets. Harry felt strangely closer to him than he's ever been before, and by the time night came around, they were both in each other's arms and reminiscing childhood stories. Harry talked about his mother without feeling sad, which made him feel like he accomplished something. Harry thinks she'd be proud of him.

They fell asleep like that, holding each other, with smiles on their faces. Harry would've never believed that their first fight would only bring them closer.


	45. 35½

Louis is in love. So much so that it scares him.

His heart races when he wakes to an empty bed, scared that he's been left, but then Harry comes out of the bathroom all sleepy and stumbles back into bed. Louis doesn't hesitate in wrapping an arm around his love to make sure he stays. 

Harry had been keeping to himself ever since the fight broke out. If it looks like the slightest disagreement will occur, he'll shut up and make himself look small. Louis doesn't mind not fighting, but he minds that Harry is holding back from speaking now. 

He's also been too nice. Louis has gathered, by this point, that this was new for Harry. Fighting. Louis wasn't sure what experience he had with it (and he's certain that whatever previous fights he's had has made him so quiet now). 

It feels like his heart physically aches when he watches Harry hunch down and press his lips together. And it's not like Louis hasn't tried talking to him, because he has. He just keeps doing it whenever confronted. And now, he just doesn't know what else would work. 

These frustrating thoughts enter his brain and he accidentally digs his nails into Harry's thigh when trying to push them out. Harry inhaled deeply and quietly whispered Louis' name. But Louis didn't know, was too caught up in frustration, until Harry's hand moved to cover Louis'. That snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"Huh?" He questioned, then felt what he was doing. He sat up and pulled his hand away from underneath Harry's. "I'm so sorry, I don't . . . I don't know why I did that." Louis huffed and rubbed his hand over his face. 

"It's okay, Lou. I'm fine."

Harry grabbed Louis' hand away from his face and smiled, showing him how fine he was. But Louis just looked down at the bare thigh and frowned when he saw the indents his fingernails left on his skin. "I'm sorry," he said again, this time much quieter. He repeated those words as he lowered himself down on the bed to be level with the marks he made. "So sorry," he whispered once more, before tilting his head down to kiss his thigh. 

Harry started to giggle. "Lou-ie!" He said between laughs. "Tickles!"

When Louis was finished and Harry was a laughing mess, he pulled away from the soft skin and moved to sit on Harry's lower stomach. Harry's long hair was a mess and it covered so much of the pillow; Louis loved it. He loved his green eyes and the tip of his nose, and his pink lips, and the faint color in his cheeks. Louis made a show of this by kissing every feature that made his heart melt (Harry made his heart melt, so you can imagine how long it took to get to his lips lastly). 

"I really love you, you know," Louis said after planting a big one on Harry's lips. 

"I love you too. Just not enough to endure your morning breath."

Louis gasped and laughed, and then moved away from Harry so that he could brush his teeth. Harry was laughing when Louis huffed and walked away, then turned back to glare at him. 

It was after breakfast when it happened again. It was over something really stupid. Harry mentioned how much of a hassle it was keeping up with his hair, then spoke up about wanting to cut it. Louis said he liked his long hair and that he didn't want it cut. Then Harry pressed his lips together, put his hands between his lap, and slouched over. Louis sighed and scratched at the back of his head. He wanted to ask Harry to stop doing that, but he knew he'd end up making things much worse.

So he left. Louis left and walked into his room to really think, because he couldn't think when Harry was like that. He couldn't handle Harry being sad and being so helpless. He walked around and distracted his brain, tried to conjure up new thoughts on how he could help Harry, but then he found himself sitting on his bed and reading over the letters his sister had sent. And the reason Harry is acting this way. The fight broke out over this. Louis groaned and rolled around on the bed and dug his face into the duvet, knocked the letter on the ground, picked it up, and then groaned again. He sulked and then paced. Tried everything to do distract himself. 

But now he's on the floor with a blank piece of paper in front of him, and a pencil in his hand.

Dear Phoebe and Daisy. 

Louis erased.

Sisters,

I have thoroughly read your letters to me. It was such a shock hearing from you girls. A good shock, of course, and I'm just really sorry for not being the brother you deserve to have. A lot has changed. I've changed. Maybe in a way I don't want you guys to see. I was really goofy and happy before that day, and then I left, and more things happened. I'm different. And scared. I've missed my family every second of every day, and knowing that I wasn't there to see you girls blossom into the beautiful ladies I know you are just hurts. I want to see you. I want to take you out to dinner. Is that okay? Want to see you guys. You can meet Harry. Just . . . here's my number, these letters are too old school for me. Let your mum know about this too. She needs to know and you guys shouldn't be sneaking around for me. 

Louis included his phone number and read over it until his eyes hurt. It sounded so formal. He didn't know how to talk to his sisters, but he'll figure it out. He has to. He has to make things right and he needs to finally face his family before it's too late. 

+

A week later, he received a text. It read:

This is Felicite. can we meet at jojo's next friday? around six?

Louis quickly replied and told her he could do that.

His heart was pounding in his chest when he sent the message, and then he looked over to the window to look at Harry outside by his flower stand. Louis gulped.

"Something wrong?"

Louis looked over at Madeline behind the desk, flipping through one of Zayn's magazines. "Don't you have a job?"

She scrunched up her face in thought. "No."

Louis rolled his eyes and knocked her feet off the desk before calling back someone for a tattoo. 

He tried to go through his day normally, tried to not think of how hard it would be to tell Harry, but he told himself to just wait. Wait until they're at home. And then Louis forgot it was his turn to stay over at Harry's because he needed to wash his clothes, so he ended up in his apartment with Niall and Liam fighting about some basketball player. 

"LeBron would totally beat Jordan!" Niall said.

"Michael Jordan is old now, so of course he could! But if they played when Jordan was at his prime, LeBron would have no chance, Niall. Seriously. How are we even arguing about this?"

Niall was firmly sticking with his opinion and saying that LeBron was better than Jordan. Louis thought the fight would never end; he had to Google who LeBron was. And after typing, lebron basketball player in Google, he could still barely follow along with the discussion. 

"Clothes are washing," Harry said with a smile as he entered the room. He walked over to Louis and tried to sit beside him on the one-person sofa. "Can we see a movie?" He asked Louis.

Louis turned his head up to Harry and looked at his green eyes. "What kind?"

"Moana," Harry quickly said. "It looks so good! Please?"

Louis shrugged. "Moana? Weird name. I don't care. I guess. What time?"

Harry jumped up happily and ran into his room to get his phone. When he returned, Niall said, "You know it's Disney, right?"

Harry put his finger over his lips; Louis just groaned and slid down into his seat. 

But that's how he ended up taking Harry to see a Disney movie and not talking about going to Doncaster to just eat with his sisters.

"That was such a good movie," Harry said, later that night in bed. "The singing. God. Amazing."

"Mhm," Louis hummed, still trying to figure out how to tell him. He couldn't keep it from Harry, not when he wanted them to come together so badly. Why was he finding it so hard to say? "Harry," he started. 

"I Googled Moana and the girl that played her is, like, fourteen. That's crazy! So young. So talented. Let me adopt you," Harry said to his phone, which had the girl's Instagram pulled up.

"Cool. Harry," Louis said again, in a more serious tone. 

Harry looked over at Louis. "Yeah?"

"I have something to tell you."

"Oh, God. You want to break up. I-I just wanted to see it. I'll stop, if you want me to. I know you're not a big fan of the princess Disney movies. Was it because I said I wanted to adopt her? Not so soon. I don't want kids yet. In the future, but not now, Lou. Not now!"

Harry was rambling and about to cry, which made Louis kind of happy. Not that he was on the verge of tears, but because he was rambling; the movie must have out him in a good enough mood. He wasn't shutting down like he's been doing.

"No, Harry, no," Louis finally said, putting his hand over Harry's mouth. "I'm not breaking up with you. I want kids too, but that's another conversation we'll have a long time from now. Okay?" Harry nodded. "Okay." He removed his hand. "I reached out to my sisters." Harry gasped and was about to say something, but Louis just put his hand back over his mouth. "Let me finish. I reached out to them because you're right. I need to mend what I broke before it's too late. I'm going to take them to a restaurant in Doncaster Friday. You can come, but I'm just letting you know. It's at six. I already bought our train tickets. You don't have to come, though. I'm just . . . saying." Louis sighed. It felt good to get it off his chest.

Harry looked at Louis' hand, then flicked his eyes back up to his own. Louis removed his hand. "Louis, holy . . . That's huge. Of course I want to come. What all happened?" Louis told him everything, from the letter he sent, to the text. "Whoa. I'm so proud of you. I'm happy. We get to meet your family! Are you sure you want me to come?"

Louis put his head back on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. "I mean, yeah. I don't think I could do it without you, to be honest. I need someone else with me. I need you."

"Okay," Harry replied. He put his head on Louis' shoulder. "Okay."

+

Louis was going to throw up. 

"No. Nope. Bye." 

He turned around from the restaurant and started to walk back in the direction he came from. Harry grabbed his arm.

"Louis William Tomlinson, I did not sit on a train for three-and-a-half hours for you to wimp out." Harry put his hands on Louis' collared shirt and adjusted it. "Turn around and get in that restaurant. I'm hungry." 

Louis inhaled deeply and nodded, robotically making his way inside with Harry behind him. It was six-twelve; he didn't know if they were here already or if he should find a table big enough. JoJo's was a place he always liked going to when he lived in Doncaster. He knew the place better than he knew his own apartment. It was smaller than he thought. He looked around, and shook his head nervously. 

"I see them," he said. He saw his sisters. Only they were big. They were so much older. His feet moved without his brain on to think for him. But he was at the table, and his sisters were staring up at him, and he was staring back, and then he was crying. He barely recognized them. He cried; Phoebe or Daisy cried and stood up to greet him. They looked so alike; he could remember when he could tell them apart, but now they're just so big and grown. And he hugged them. He hugged both of them so tightly and squeezed his eyes shut so that he could remember this hug. They smelled of home. They smelled of his mum's laundry detergent. He laughed at that and stood up, wiping his eyes. Felicite was sitting at the table looking down at her cup of tea.

"Fizzy," Louis said. 

Her stern face met his. Her eyes were watery, cracking her strong facade. Louis wanted to hug her but she looked so coldly at him that he didn't even want to try. 

"Is Mum here?" Louis asked. "Did she drive you?"

"I drove myself," she muttered angrily. 

Louis stared, eyes wide. "You can drive." 

"Yes, I can drive," she snapped at him. 

They all went silent as the twins scooted into the booth to sit next to Fizzy. Louis gulped and his hands started to shake. His heart started to pound. Felicite hated him. He knew it. That's why she's being so mean. She hated--

"I'm Harry."

Louis looked over to Harry and smiled happily. He forgot he was here and was suddenly so glad to have him break the awkward silence. Louis grabbed his hand and calmed himself down. "This is Harry."

"Harry!" The twins said. They piled out of the booth to hug him. "You're hair is so pretty!" One said. "You're so tall," another said.

Harry, being his charming, kind self, thanked them and hugged them back. He asked them questions, like about school. Louis thought he should've asked that, but his brain can't seem to give him the words to speak. They both ended up sitting down across from the girls. Harry ordered a salad, Louis ordered tea and whatever they wanted. They wanted ice cream. Fizzy didn't say much; she looked at her phone mostly. 

"Mum thinks we're too young to babysit the twins," Daisy said with a roll of her eyes.

It took Louis a moment to remember that there were other twins in the family, and not just them. He frowned and tried to not be upset. 

"Because you are," Fizzy said. 

"We're almost thirteen, thank you very much," Phoebe replied. 

Harry laughed. "Are you excited? You'll be a teenager." He put emphases on the word like it was magical.

"We're gonna throw a big party! Mum said we could, too. So it'll be big. Huge. Louis, you should come!"

Louis looked away from his tea to look at Daisy. "Really?" He cleared his throat and looked at Harry; he inhaled. "Your mum would have to allow me to come."

"Your mum," Felicite repeated. "You say that like she isn't even your mum anymore."

Louis swallowed thickly to wet his suddenly dry throat. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure. Like you didn't mean to ditch us. Right."

"Fizzy, I--"

"Don't call me that! No one calls me that, Louis. I'm not a baby anymore. I've grown up and I've grown up great. Without you," she scoffed and shook her head. "I don't even know why I bothered coming today. We should go." Phoebe and Daisy started to protest. "Do you want to get in trouble? If mum found out, we're all dead. You know how she is at the mention of Louis. It's not worth it."

Daisy and Phoebe frowned but didn't say anything.

"You don't understand," Louis said. He didn't want them to go. This it what he was afraid of; he was afraid of this reaction. He was afraid they'd hate him. He didn't want to never see them again. "I killed my own sister." The table went extremely quiet. Louis felt his heart beating in his ears. "I couldn't live with it. I couldn't live waking up everyday and seeing everyone so heartbroken because of me. I should've done things differently, I know, but I thought everyone hated me, because of that horrible day. No one was in that car, no one saw the compact it made on her. I did. I saw it. I was in my seat, frozen, unable to do anything. Imagine being so helpless as you watch your sister die. And living through it every night in your dreams, watching it in replay..." Louis trailed off, throat dry, eyes dry. He felt too numb reliving that day. That awful instant where his sister was so alive and healthy, and in the next, crushed and lifeless. Harry's hand was in Louis' by this point. 

"Sorry," Louis whispered, as he glanced to his sisters' crying faces. Felicite was crying. They were all reliving it too. "I'm sorry."

Fizzy stood up and hugged him; Louis was shocked, but hugged back, soon standing to make it a proper one. They clung to each other for so long. Louis' heart felt whole and mended. Bruised, but mended. 

"You didn't have to go through that alone, you idiot," she muttered against his shirt. "Such an idiot."

Louis laughed. "I know. I know."


	46. ✿36✿

**December 1st.**

Harry smiled widely as he placed the star on top of the tree. He stepped back, grinning, and nodded his head in approval. 

"It looks so good!" He happily said. He turned around and the smile left his face when he saw Louis on his phone. "You didn't take the picture!"

Louis looked up, mouth hung open and stuttering.

"Louis," Harry groaned out as he walked over to the couch to sit beside Louis. "This is our first Christmas together, I wanted everything captured."

"I know. I'm sorry. The girls! They're just so funny. Daisy tackled someone for picking on Phoeb's, how awesome is that?" 

Harry smiled and rested his head on Louis' shoulder. Ever since they had reconnected, Louis was constantly on his phone messaging them and calling them. It was really cute, Harry loved it. He just wished he wasn't so distracted by it. 

"The tree looks amazing, Harry. I've never had a Christmas tree in here." Louis kissed Harry's forehead and Harry smiled.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Never really celebrated it since I left my family."

Harry snuggled in closer to Louis and rubbed his side. "Glad things are changing, then. Maybe we can visit your mum for Christmas? We'd have to plan a trip to Gran's, too. Gemma will come up with her fiance, can't miss out on that."

"When even is the wedding?" Louis asked.

Harry shrugged and realized the date hadn't even been set yet. Josh proposed to Gemma in November; he had taken her to New York City and had a stroll in Central Park, and Gemma told Harry that he said, "What if we got married?" And she said she shrugged and replied, "Worse things have happened to me." Then he got down on one knee and proposed. She, of course, said yes.

"I'm not sure. Bet it'll be cute and small, though. Gemma doesn't like people." Harry sighed as he thought about it. "I always wanted an outside wedding. Maybe under a big tree that's hanging with lights. And have dancing under the stars. Maybe. If the weather's nice. Ooh! I bet if Gemma hurries up and pops out kids, one will be able to be a flower girl. I always wanted to be a flower boy, but everyone said that wasn't a thing. I wanted to make it a thing," Harry said with a pout.

"You're my flower boy," Louis said as he patted Harry's thigh. 

He smiled and put his chin on Louis' shoulder. "What's your dream wedding like?"

"I always imagined I'd elope." Harry gasped. Louis furrowed his brows and said, "Maybe not."

"No! No, you have got to at least imagined what your wedding day would be like? Right?"

Louis shrugged, then sighed, then looked at Harry, and then sighed again. "Maybe," he muttered out. "Outside me mum's house is this white gazebo surrounded by a small garden. I always thought that would be a nice place."

Harry started crying.

"What the...? Harry, what's wrong?" Louis asked, turning to him and resting a hand on his cheek.

"It just . . . it just sounds so lovely," Harry said with a frown. "So lovely."

**December 3rd.**

"Everything's a disaster," Harry said with his hands on his cheeks.

"Take a breath," Liam said.

Harry shivered and inhaled deeply. Today was supposed to be great. Amazing, even. Christmas shopping and birthday shopping was a thing that had always come easy to Harry. But, of course, he just had to be stumped. Louis' birthday was on the 24th, Christmas Eve. The plans for Christmas were all over the place because Louis was so hesitant to call up his mother, so Harry couldn't exactly decide a date for his own family's Christmas get-together, and that means he didn't know where he'd be on the night of Louis' birthday. He wanted to take Louis out, obviously, and make it a wonderful day. Louis wasn't a people person, so Harry couldn't take him anywhere during the day, and Harry was sure that everything nice would be closed for Christmas Eve. Harry wanted to scream.

"Okay?" Liam asked. Harry nodded.

"Right. Let's try this store, you might find something." Liam guided Harry into a small shop with things like books and jewelry in the front. 

Once inside, Harry knew this wasn't the store he would find something for Louis in. It smelled of gingerbread. Louis doesn't like gingerbread. He took that as a sign and walked out. This made Liam very grumpy, saying Harry was being too picky, but then Harry threatened to not get him anything for Christmas if he kept acting like that. While shopping, he did find some things for Christmas presents. A poetry book for Madeline (she's really nice and once mentioned she liked poetry), an artistic spin of a painted picture of Deadpool (for Zayn), a new set of alcohol-making appliances that Niall needed (with Liam's help, because Harry didn't know what anything was), and a toy helicopter for Liam (Harry told Liam it was for Madeline's brother).

"This," Harry said, stopping in his tracks to look up at the building. It was painted black. It looked scary. "Louis' present is in here."

Liam groaned and opened the door for Harry. "If we get murdered . . ." Liam trailed off.

Harry walked inside and wasn't surprised that it wasn't all too different from the outside. It was dim and painted black on the inside; Harry didn't know what the heck he was getting himself into. 

"Welcome to Kinks for Kings, how may I help you?"

"Oh, God," Harry muttered.

**December 6th.**

"What do you want for your birthday?" 

Louis scrunched his nose up, then rubbed his chin, and then said, "nothing."

"Louis," Harry said, voice firm. He was exhausted because he was out shopping for everyone else with Louis, and all day, Louis wouldn't hint at what he wanted. "I am tired. I am losing my gift-giving touch. Help me."

Louis moved to the floor where Harry was sitting in the middle of wrapping paper, and began kissing his neck.

"Not that kinda help," Harry whined out. Louis laughed and didn't stop. "Do you want a new lip ring?" Harry asked, and then Louis made a point of rubbing his lip ring against Harry's ear, because he knew Harry turned into a mess when he did that. "You can't just . . . lip piercing . . . jewelry? Present . . . Lou . . . Gifts. Birthday. Birthday," Harry spoke, his jumbled words not making any sense. But Louis ignored him and moved to the spot below his ear. That spot. "You can't . . . pull that card."

"Just take your shirt off."

Harry groaned and took his shirt off.

**December 8th.**

"I AM NOT KIDDING," Harry shouted, which woke Louis up. Harry spent his morning Googling gifts and watching YouTube videos of perfect gifts for your boyfriend, but nothing seemed good enough for Louis. 

Louis jumped and looked to his side, and realized that Harry wasn't there, so he sat up and squinted his eyes in Harry's direction. "What the fu...?"

"YOU'RE GOING TO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT," Harry kept shouting. He was going insane. Even Liam and Niall didn't want to hang out with him because he was going so crazy over this. Harry walked over to Louis and threw down ten magazines he bought at seven in the morning on his lap. "LOOK THROUGH THESE AND CIRCLE WHICH ONES YOU LIKE."

"Stop shouting!" Louis yelled back, rubbing his eyes, and then yawning. 

"SOR--sorry," Harry cleared his throat and kissed Louis' head. "Good morning, by the way." Then he walked out of the room.

Harry started cleaning the apartment to ease his mind. He vacuumed, did the dishes, started the laundry, and had just sat down on the clean sofa when Louis walked out and placed the magazines back on Harry's lap. Harry covered his sensitive area before Louis could hurt it, though. Louis stomped off into the kitchen to make himself some tea, and Harry started flipping through the magazines, the large smile soon wearing off his mouth when he realized the magazines weren't marked in at all. 

"LOUIS!" Harry shouted, and then started crying, because he was so clueless and didn't know what to get, and he knew crying would soften Louis up, so he threw in some sad noises. 

Louis walked in the living room, sipping his tea, and shook his head. "Where's your pride, 'arry?" He asked, walking over to him and kissing his cheek. "Don't want anythin', I told ya. Don't fake cry over it."

Then Harry started to actually cry. Louis caught on and sat down beside him and handed him his tea. "Drink up." Harry did. "I mean it. You're all I need. And had a talk with mum last night," Louis casually decided to throw in. Harry stopped crying. "She was nice. Said it would be very nice to have me over for Christmas. I know you were stressing a lot, so I decided to just go for it. She also said that Felicite told her I was talking to everyone and that she was fine with it and wanted me there. Said she's excited to meet you."

Harry was so excited that he accidentally spilled the tea on the floor while trying to hug Louis. "I'm so happy for you," he quietly said. "Proud, too." Louis flushed. Harry kissed him sweetly and moved the magazines from his lap so that he could stand up and make Louis another cup of tea before trying to get the tea from the carpet. 

**December 13th.**

"That one's pretty!" Harry happily said.

Himself, Louis, Liam, Niall, Zayn, and Madeline, all drove out of the city to see the Christmas lights a neighborhood is famous for having. They all parked their cars and walked around street to street, each house decorated beautifully and amazingly. Louis and Harry somehow ended up alone, taking their own sweet time in admiring the little things that made the Christmas lights really cool. 

"It is," Louis agreed, his hand squeezing Harry's.

"Would you want that for your birthday?" Harry asked as he pointed to the mechanically moving reindeer glowing with lights. 

Louis laughed. "Sure. Does the lawn come with it?"

"If that's what you want," Harry joked along. They started walking down the street again. Strangers were driving in cars and watching, too, and some of the people that lived here were giving out free hot chocolate, so that started attracting more people. It was nice. 

"You did call your Grandma, didn't you?" Louis suddenly asked.

"Oh, yeah, I did. Told her we were free before Christmas. She was happy and then called Gemma, so we're going there before, and then to your mum's on Christmas day. Right? And we might have to spend your birthday at Gran's, you know. Tell me if you don't want to. Tell me something." 

"I don't care. As long as we treat it like Christmas Eve, and not my birthday," Louis said.

Harry mumbled some words.

"What was that?" Louis asked.

Harry shrugged.

"C'mon, tell me."

Harry sighed. "I said . . . fine."

"Hm," Louis hummed out, uncertain, then Harry rolled his eyes. 

"I did! And some other words, but fine, is what I said."

"What were the other words?"

Harry blushed, and said, "dickass."

Louis laughed, head thrown back and all, and Harry watched the breaths he made go up in puffs of clouds. "Is that even a word?"

"It is now!" Harry said, defending his word.

Louis continued to laugh, which made his already rosy cheeks appear even more rosy. Even the tip of his nose was rosy. The cold hair made his skin a touch more paler, and that made his icy blue eyes really pop. Every time Harry looked over at Louis, he just melted.

"That conversation we made earlier was such a couple-y conversation," Louis pointed out.

Harry nodded and smiled as he wrapped his arms around Louis' waist when they stopped to look at another house. "It was, cuddle bear."

"Oh, God," Louis muttered as he watched other people pass them, embarrassed. "Sh."

"No, snuggly-wuggly," Harry kept on, because he knew it made Louis slightly embarrassed being called that stuff in public. 

"Harry."

"Cutie-wootie."

Harry stood up and started pinching Louis' rosy cheeks. "Chubby bunny."

"That's a game," Louis said, moving away from Harry's hands annoyed. 

"But you just look so pretty tonight," Harry told him, in a much quieter voice. Louis rolled his eyes, but was smiling. "People know you're tough, don't worry. Your piercing's show that. No one wants piercing's in their face unless they're tough like that."

Louis nodded and touched the jewelry on his face. "Right," he agreed.

"Pretty baby," Harry said with his lower lip sticking out. "MY PRETTY BABY," he shouted, and then hugged him tightly. Louis groaned.

They soon met up with everyone else and drank hot chocolate. Harry wanted to remember this night for a long time, so he found someone to take their picture. In the picture, Louis had his arm around Harry and was looking displeased that he was being photographed, and Harry was smiling happily with his arm around Louis' stomach. Liam and Niall had their arms around each other and were smiling widely, and Zayn had sneaked a kiss onto Madeline's cheek, which captured her surprised face. It was perfect.

**December 18th.**

Harry opened the door and tried his best at covering his sweater as people came in. He didn't want his sweater getting in the way of him having a good time, even if he was the center of a joke tonight. 

He lost a bet. That's all he wanted to say to people, but then Louis would swoop in all smiley and smug to explain what really happened. 

"Harry said he could get anything out of carpet's," Louis started, again, for the fifth time tonight so far. "I, of course, said he couldn't." He grinned to the people he was telling the story to. "He couldn't." 

And then he pointed to Harry's sweater. 

Which had two deer inappropriately going at it on the front. 

Harry blushed and crossed his arms. 

Louis was having the time of his life at the Christmas party. Every time he caught a look at Harry's sweater, he laughed. Especially when Harry blushed so easily and obviously looked so uncomfortable in it. It's true, maybe he shouldn't have agreed to the bet, but Harry was so positive that he could get that stain out of their carpet. 

Louis was convinced to wear a Christmas sweater (convinced by Harry), so he chose what he thought was festive enough and bought it. If Harry was the one picking it out, it would be colorful. Maybe even have twinkling lights on it. Which is exactly why Louis didn't let him pick it out. And was overly joyed when he found a sweater of a decapitated snowman with X’s for eyes.

"I hate you," Harry told Louis when they were dancing together. (The party was at Harry's shared apartment because Louis' was too small.) 

"Mhm," Louis hummed out.

"I do. I hate this sweater. People keep laughing."

Louis tightened his arms around Harry's waist. "I'll beat 'em up. Every single one of them."

"Don't do that," Harry muttered.

"Okay."

"I hate your sweater, too."

"I know."

"How dare you wear a sweater like that. Frosty isn't supposed to die!" 

"I think it's just a snowma--"

"Everyone will think I'm some sexist white boy now. Thank you," Harry said, still not believing that he was forced to wear such a thing like that.

"No problem," Louis said. And then he kissed Harry's nose.

Louis decided to stop going on about Harry's sweater and spent the night in a tipsy haze, because Harry decided to get drunk, which rarely ever happened, so he let him have his fun. Harry was thankful for that; he didn't quite like being drunk, especially since the thing that happened last time he was. But he felt safe this time. He felt safe letting go and living in the moment, because Louis was there, and Louis made Harry feel safe. Harry liked feelings safe. 

"I, like, really love you," Harry whispered to Louis. They were sitting on the sofa and Harry's head was in Louis' lap.

"I know," Louis replied, his fingers combing through Harry's long hair.

"I hate your sweater."

Louis laughed and didn't reply.

"I hate my sweater," Harry said as he tried to look down at his sweater. He ended up tugging it up and snorting. "Ho, ho, ho," he said to himself, and then he frowned. He twisted his face up. 

Louis caught that and sighed; that was Harry's almost-going-to-cry look. "Baby, do you want to change?"

"No! Frosty isn't dead!" Harry shouted. He squeezed the top of his nose and sighed. "My life is so complicated."

"Guys, watcha doin' over here?" Niall asked. He had dragged Liam with him; they were wearing matching Christmas sweaters, both bright red with deer's doing inappropriate things on it. 

"Therapy," Harry said when Louis said, "Chillin'."

"Come daance," Niall whined out. "Liam said he's getting tired."

Liam huffed. "I said that an hour ago."

"I'm obviously going through something traumatic, I need my therapy-ist. Therapy. Therapist? Therapy-ist?" Harry questioned to himself, his hand absentmindedly rubbing Louis' chest. "If a P makes a peeee noise, then why is there a Y at the end? Isn't a P supposed to sound like a P? Why would a Y make the peeee?"

"Without the Y, it would be ther-ap," Liam said, annoyed and tired. "I need an energy drink."

"You need an energy drink," Harry said, laughing at his comeback.

Liam just rolled his eyes and walked away. Niall ran after him. 

"Louis," Harry spoke, in a suddenly serious tone. Louis looked down. "I think I'm P-I-S-D."

Louis furrowed his brows. "What?"

"Piiiiiissed."

Louis shook his head. "Yes, Harry. You're very drunk."

"I like it when you're stern," Harry rambled. "Hey. Wanna be my sexy therapy-ist and I'll be the cute flower boy and we do it on the sofa," he quietly said, not wanting other people to hear. Not that they were even listening. 

"How about another night? I'm free tomorrow," Louis said with a humorous smile.

"I have plans with my boyfriend."

"Right, how could I have forgotten?"

**December 19th.**

"Your therapist is recommending some serious action," Louis said.

Harry squealed. 

December 21st. 

"Do you have your tooth brush?" Harry asked Louis.

Louis sighed. "Yes. I do. Now can we go?"

Harry paused, deep in thought, looked at his bags, and then nodded slowly. He just wanted to make sure he had everything he needed before they both head off to his Gran's to celebrate Christmas. The plan was to spend three days there, and a couple at Louis'. Harry was beyond excited for this weekend, because he loves family and Christmas. It's the best time of the year. And the most annoying one. He can't really sell his flowers. 

Harry told Louis about that, had complained nearly the whole ride there. Louis understood and let him rant about not having the space to grow flowers. When Harry talked about that, he started going on about his dream of opening up a flower shop. Louis knew all of this, too, and didn't mind the rambling.

"Tell me again why we're not getting each other Christmas presents?"

"Because," Louis said, "We're the only gift we need. And I'm a horrid gift-giver."

Harry nodded. Secretly, Harry got Louis a new Adidas sweater and a pack of underwear because he said he was constantly losing his. Harry didn't know how; Louis said the washing machine was eating it. 

Upon their arrival, they were greeted at the door by Gran with open arms and kisses. Harry welcomed the familiar smell of home and felt his insides turn to a warm and fuzzy blanket as comfort swept over him. The feeling of being home made Harry too happy for words. As they walked into the living room, Harry was quick to hug Gemma (and Josh), and then grab her hand to look at the ring in awe. It was a square-cut diamond that looked the size of his head. It almost took up the space on the couch. Harry said that, of course, which had everyone laughing. 

"All right, fresh tea!"

Harry looked toward the voice that came from the unfamiliar man. He was old, about Gran's age, and then Harry's Grandmother walked into the room and kissed him. Harry stood, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.

"Who's this, Gran?" Harry asked, beginning to step forward. The older man stuck his hand out for Harry to shake; he did, eyes still narrowed as he looked him up and down. He smelled of cigars and scotch. 

"I'm Howard," the old man said. Harry didn't like him.

"I mean who are you."

The old man (Howard) furrowed his eyebrows, then widened his eyes in realization. Howard laughed. Harry didn't. "I'm your Gran's boyfriend."

"Gran!" Both Harry and Gemma said at the same time. Harry's was one of disapproval, whereas Gemma's was one of excitement and shock.

Gemma stood up to give the man a hug and Harry moved away to sit beside Louis. Harry's eyes followed Howard's every move. 

"I don't like him," Harry said to Louis. "He's old. And smells like a horse."

"Harry," Louis said disapprovingly. "You don't even know the fella."

"Ever been married?" Harry loudly asked when Howard took a seat beside his Gran.

Howard laughed and put his arm around his girlfriend. Harry's right eye twitched. "Once, yes. She passed away many years ago, though."

"Did you have kids?"

"Sadly, no," he replied.

Harry sat back in his seat and chewed on the inside of his mouth. "What are your intentions here?" He asked, gesturing between the two.

"Harry Edward--"

"It's all right, dear," Howard said. He smiled at Harry. "I plan on making your Grandmother as happy as she makes me until the inevitability occurs."

Harry squinted, and then the tension flooded from his body when he felt Louis' fingertips massage his scalp. "And . . . And then . . ." Harry stumbled over his words, but then shut his mouth and leaned into Louis' touch. 

Soon, the silence was filled with polite conversation as Gemma and Gran went to the kitchen to cook. Harry usually helped with the food, but Louis has him trapped under his touch and he didn't want it to go away. 

"My kitten," Louis quietly said.

Harry shivered, and then finally pulled away. "I gotta help or else no one's gonna get any chocolate pie." He kissed Louis' jaw. "I make the best."

**December 24th.**

Harry has discovered that Howard isn't that bad in the past few days that were spent with him. Howard was quite funny and Louis got along with him nicely. He had a few cups of eggnog before he was confessing that he didn't like Howard upon first greeting. Everyone groaned and told Harry that they knew.

Now, the day of Louis' birthday, and he wakes up to the smell of breakfast. Gran usually goes all out when they're home, but if it's someone's birthday, you can count on her to make it a feast. 

"I think Gran is cooking for a village," Harry whispered to Louis, one arm thrown around his waist. Louis was barely awake.

"Or Josh."

Harry snorted and brushed his nose against Louis' bare shoulder. He left a kiss on it before lying his head down. "Happy birthday," he said in that quiet tone again. Harry still felt horrible for not getting him anything. 

Louis smiled, eyes still closed. "Already the best one yet."

+

After gaining thirty pounds from all the food, it was time to open the presents the family had gotten for each other. 

Harry wanted to go first, so he did. (The baby of the family always gets his way.) He pulled out all the presents from a bag and felt like Santa Claus as he passed them around, with Louis' help. In that moment, all the hard work and long days were going to pay off. Christmas shopping is hard. He barely has any money in the bank now, but that's all right.

"Oh, Harry!" Gemma shouted when she opened hers. It was some save-the-date cards and an inappropriate wedding night gown. Gran laughed the hardest.

"Louis' idea!" he quickly added. Louis nudged his side.

Gemma, with a pink face, stuffed the gown back into the box and went for the other one, this time much slower. "If it's knicker's or anything like that . . ." Her voice went quiet when she opened the present. Then she lifted the books out of the box, still quiet, and looked through them. "Harry, this must have cost a fortune," she said. She leaned over to show Josh the first edition sets of her favorite books. 

"I found a website," Harry muttered. Gemma got up to hug him. "All right?" He asked, when the hug was beginning to get a little long.

Gemma nodded. "Yeah, m'good. Thank you."

Next was Josh. This one was hard, because who really knows what to get for a future brother-in-law? Not Harry. Especially a very rich one. Louis told him there's only one thing to get for a person that has everything, and that's children's toys. Harry called Gemma and had asked what his favorite toy as a child was, and went out and bought it. 

"A remote-controlled Transformer . . ." Josh said, with a big smile on his face. He looked over to Gemma. "That's why you asked me that! Gosh, it's been forever since I've messed around with one of these. Thanks, Harry. and Louis."

Louis nodded towards him. 

Harry didn't get anything for Howard, so next was Gran. Gran opened hers and pulled out things like a new sweater, jewelry, and things like that. Gran was an easy one to please and was always happy with a new outfit. 

Gemma started passing around her presents. Louis' was in a medium-sized box and Harry's was in a smaller one. After she got done passing them around, she sat down and looked at Louis and Harry. "Well, go on."

Louis tore through his before Harry could even blink. 

"Oh, my God, this is amazing," Louis said, unable to hold his laughter in. It was a kids tattooing kit. "It's got designs and all. Harry, I know what we're doing tonight."

Harry laughed, and soon, all the attention was on him to open his present. It was uncomfortable, every year it always was, having eyes on you in that awkward silence. He ignored it, and ripped open his present. It was a velvet box. Harry looked at both Josh and Gemma. "If it's a proposal, then sorry, guys, my answer's no," he joked out. But then he opened it. And it felt like the air was torn from his body. Insides, was the pendant his mum used to wear. A silver cross with a small diamond in the middle. He pulled it out by the chain and stared at it. It had been years since he last saw this; his mum used to wear it everyday, never took it off once. 

"Where did you . . ."

"Found it in some box's in Gran's attic," Gemma smiled, eyes welling up with tears like Harry's was. They stood up again and hugged tightly. Harry kept saying thank you over and over. 

When he sat back down, he showed Louis and told him who it previously belonged to. Louis hugged him and helped him put it back on. Harry was in a sort of daze after that. Gran made Louis a cake and gave him money like she did the rest of them (she did that every year since they were kids), and then they drank some more eggnog. The day was spent reminiscing and watching old baby videos, all while celebrating Louis' birthday at the same time. Gran told Louis he was a direct gift from God for having a birthday on Christmas Eve. Overall it was a good day. Their big, round bellies kept them cozy in bed from all the food that was eaten. 

"I suck," Harry suddenly said. They were both brushing their teeth at the sink. 

"Why do you suck?" Louis asked, spitting down in the sink.

"I didn't get you a gift."

Louis rolled his eyes and rinsed his mouth out. Harry did the same. "I've told you over and over that I didn't want anything."

Harry followed Louis into the bedroom and replicated his movements when he started taking the extra pillows off the bed. "But I feel like I should have gotten you something."

Louis climbed into the bed. "You know what I want?"

Harry pulled the covers up and climbed underneath them. "What?"

"You."

Harry shook his head. "You've already got me."

"No," Louis scratched his head and laid his arm out, knowing Harry would want to lay his head down on his shoulder (and he did). "I mean . . . Move in with me. It's already like you have, but we still stay at your place when you run out of clothes. Now you don't have to run out of clothes. Or we can look at another place. Just move in with me."

Harry, open-mouthed, stared in shock. "Move in," Harry repeated. 

"We could probably just get our own place. Maybe one with an extra room for when Niall or Liam visit. They'd like that, huh?"

"Louis, you want me to move in?" Harry asked. 

Louis sighed. "Don't get emotional . . ."

"You want me to move in," Harry said again, tears rolling down his cheeks. He hugged Louis and nodded his head. "Yes, of course. Let's live together. I love you. Happy birthday. I love you."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you," Louis said, trying to hide a smile. 

**December 25th.**

"I don't think I can do it."

Harry rubbed Louis' back and stared at the house. The cab driver was tapping his thumb against the wheel impatiently. 

"You can. We didn't ride in a train with Psycho Santa for nothing," Harry told him. 

Louis nodded. "It looks the same," he quietly said.

They both got out of the cab, paid him, got the luggage, and headed for the house. It had a cute fence in the front. The house itself was white and two-story; Harry died a little because everything looked too cute for him. The front door was decorated when Harry knocked, because Louis was far too nervous. 

The entire way there, Louis' mind was filled with doubt. He doubted that his family really wanted to see him, especially his mum. He thought they really didn't care for him. 

Until the door opened. 

Harry stared in fascination. The woman looked so similar to Louis. Harry pictured an older woman, no doubt, because of how many kids she had, but this woman barely looked forty. Her eyes were beautiful color that Harry couldn't even explain, and those very eyes had tears flowing from them as she wrapped her arms around her boy.

"Louis," she said, voice breaking. "My baby. Louis, son," she sniffled, hugging him even tighter. 

Louis was crying, too. His face was buried deep into hers. The rest of Louis' family was gathering around to watch the two reunite, their faces beaming with fondness and happiness. 

"Mum," Louis said when the hug was over. He cupped her cheeks and Harry saw something in his eyes he'd never seen before: wholeness. "Mum, you haven't aged at all!" He laughed and kissed her forehead, and then hugged her again. "Had more kids, 'ave ya?" 

"Yes! Meet your brother and sister, go on." She shoved him inside and Harry had a hand on his chest, unbelievably happy. "You're Harry, right?" And then she hugged him. Harry smiled widely. "Heard some very good things about you."

Harry blushed. "Really?"

"Yes, the girls really adore you."

"Harry, come here!" Louis said as he bent down to his youngest siblings to play with them.

"Looks like Louis does too."

Harry's face heated up even more at that. He walked over to Louis and sat down beside him as he explained who he was. They both looked a little confused, but soon warmed up to him and let Louis play with a toy truck of theirs. 

"Everyone!" Johannah loudly said, a glass in her hand. A man was standing beside her, who could only be her husband. "It's fairly early, but whip out your champagne, because we've got something to celebrate." She looked directly at Louis. "My baby son is back. As you know, the years that have past have been very rough on all of us." The man beside her grabbed her hand. "Sometimes family is all you have to keep your head above the water. For such a long time, I let the loss get to me. I turned rather bitter . . ." Everyone laughed and agreed. "Oh, shut up and let me get through this." She laughed and then continued. "But today, right now, in this very moment, I've never been happiest. Life can be so mean to us, and it can take away the people we love, but we can either take that heartbreak and do something with it or let it destroy us. I decided family is what's important--to me, at least. And I lost that before my two youngest came into my life. And now Louis. 

"Louis, my oldest, has returned, and now my heart feels like it wasn't broken in the first place. Christmas is a tricky Holiday because we're always so caught up in getting the perfect gifts and wondering if we'll be able to even afford them. But look around. Look at the joy you can have by just sitting down with your loved ones and holding a happy conversation. That's Christmas." She lifted her glass in the air and wiped her eyes. "To family."

All around the room, glasses clanked together and a murmur of, "to family" sounded out. Louis stood up and hugged her again. Then the girls followed in, and then the rest of his family. Harry sneakily took a picture and then joined the massive hug. 

+

Harry had a moment where he closed his in the middle of the loud talking of people, and let himself enjoy the noise. Louis had a big family, and it made Harry happy to lose himself in the laughter of these people. Louis' smile never left his face, and it even grew when he handed out the presents to his siblings. Louis spent the day with his family. The first time he'd done that in years, and he could tell he loved every minute of it. Harry realized that he really shouldn't have been so stressed about getting Louis the perfect gift after all. All Louis wanted was this; he wanted to be with the people he loved. And that included Harry. Harry's never felt so loved, so important. 

"When're you two gettin' married?" Johannah asked. 

Louis was now sitting beside Harry on the crowded sofa, his mum beside him. "Mum . . ." Louis whined out. 

"It's a simple question!" She said in defense. 

Harry giggled. 

"Maybe in the future, mum, don't worry. You'll be invited," Louis said. 

"I better be!"

Louis laughed and leaned into her. And Harry wanted to remember that. He wanted to remember Louis leaning over to his mother's side as they both laughed, in each other's arms, practically. Louis looked whole. Johannah, looking so youthful, clutched Louis and whispered something in his ear, that made Louis almost snort out his drink. 

"Mum!" He said in shock. Then he leaned in to whisper back. 

Harry smiled and turned a little to look out of the window and into the backyard. He didn't really see it before, but there it was. The gazebo sitting in a garden filled with dead grass. The cold weather was harsh on everything, but something happened to Harry when he stared at it. It was beautiful. Simple and beautiful. A wedding would be nice there.


	47. ❁37❁

_**What if?**_

Harry heaved a sigh and scratched his head. Honestly? He was bored. Bored right out of his mind. He wasn't sure how long he could deal with this job.

And then he walked in.

He was grinning (he was always grinning) and holding a huge box in his hands, making his way right over to Harry. Harry couldn't help but smile back.

"What's this?" Harry asked once the large box was plopped right on top of his desk.

"It's a surprise for my boyfriend," he replied.

Harry nodded, suppressing a smile. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He's kinda short, has blond hair. Have ya seen him?"

Harry stood up and hit his shoulder. "Ha-ha, very funny. Did you get me something, Will?"

Will grinned again. Harry smiled fondly and stared into his dark eyes; Will was tall, taller than Harry, and had dirty blond hair that Harry loved to pet when Will napped. He never liked people touching his hair, and Harry could understand that because he really does have such good hair, so he could only get away with it when he was sleeping. Will. He could talk about him for hours. He's kind and very smart and practical. When Harry met him, he was just a dumb boy chasing after an unrealistic dream... He met Will during an evening of flower shopping; Harry's flowers had just died so he'd run down to the market to find some more. Then came Will, who Harry (not so graciously) bumped in to while hurrying over to the flowers. Harry hadn't ever really been around someone so tall and was completely awestruck by this man's height. 

"How tall are you?" Harry had asked.

Then Will slightly turned toward him. Harry only then realized Will was on the phone and instantly felt bad. Will's eyes had traveled over Harry. "Bart? Yeah, I'm gonna have to call you back." Then he talked to Harry and Harry talked back.

Will is a business man, always on the go and traveling to and from places. When Harry--and he feels silly thinking about it now--told him on their first date that he dreamed of opening a flower shop, Will told him how unstable financially that would be. It really opened Harry's eyes. Since then, almost a year ago now, Will has helped him really get on his feet. Harry works for a company that places shops in malls. Every time Harry explained this to friends, he'd say this: 

"You know those people you see in malls that always wants you to try their hair product or skincare routine? We work and figure out what would sell most and place them there."

That usually works.

He was in the middle of some paperwork before this huge box was placed on it, but he doesn't mind. He and Will don't get each other gifts, anyway, because it wouldn't be very nice to out-do each other.

"Harry, bunny, you know we don't do that," Will softly replied.

Harry felt something deflate in his chest, but smiled. "Of course. What is it, then?"

"It's a new printer!" Will excitedly said, opening the box. "You complained about the one here so I decided to buy a new one for the office."

Harry plastered a wide smile on his mouth. "Wow," he said in a gentler tone. "Amazing, thank you." He leaned over his desk and the printer to give him a quick kiss on the mouth. "Should go set this up, huh?" Harry said, then reached down into the box and pulled out the printer. It was too small to go in an office of fifty, and he didn't really understand why Will, who is very smart, thought an average sized one would do the trick. Or that he thought buying a gift for the office is better than him buying a gift for Harry, but whatever. It's the thought that counts.

"I'm gonna head back to work now," Will said, walking beside Harry as he struggled to place it in the corner between the old copier and the water cooler. 

"'Kay," Harry replied.

Will kissed his cheek and then left. Harry then texted Niall and asked if he was up for drinks.

+

"You should work with me," Niall said before downing a gin and tonic. 

Harry laughed and chugged down something blue that Niall made him try. His throat tingled weirdly and it tasted like a mixture of strawberries and rum. Harry gagged. "I'm good."

Which, okay, Harry knows it's annoying to complain about his job and completely boring to listen to, but he's just unhappy working there. And even though Niall's drinks absolutely suck, they are quite strong and can get someone drunk. He honestly doesn't know when he started getting drunk every weekend, but Harry thinks it was when he accepted the job.

"Liam comin'?" Harry asked. He hadn't known Niall shoved another drink he concocted his way until it was down his throat and then wanting to come back up again. "That's horrible."

"I think it had broccoli in it," Niall muttered. "And yeah. With Zayn," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Niall had been in love with Liam since they all moved in together, and Liam was completely oblivious about it. Apparently Liam met this strapping young fellow at a tattoo joint, and, as he put it, "was love at first sight." Harry made sure to tell Liam that love at first sight didn't exist, but Liam wouldn't hear it. 

"You good?" Harry asked, drinking a shot of something, and then coughing. "Stop doing that!"

"Gotta test it out!" He defensively said. "Yeah, when you buy another round of shots."

Harry called the bartender over and bought another round. And then Niall choked, and Harry thought, ha, bet you drank what you were about to slide to me, but then he realized that Niall was staring too freakishly panicked at the door, and that's when he turned. And hot damn. If Harry wasn't taken, he'd be all over this Zayn guy. But then he saw Niall slump down and then thought it was best to hate Zayn.

"Hey, guys!" Liam happily said, patting their backs. Zayn stood beside him, with that wonderful jaw and intense look. "This is Zayn."

"Hi. Are you a model?" Harry asked, because he's drunk, and yeah. He's just really drunk. 

Zayn did this little half smile with his lips closed together. A smirk, you could say, but Zayn made it look like he reinvented it into something even better. You're with Will, Harry. "No. I do tattoo art."

"You can do me--can do a drink? You can do a drink? Use a drink? Could use a drink?" Harry quickly covered up, and thankfully no one heard the first part of his drunken ramble.

"Yeah, could use one," Zayn said, smoothly sliding into a seat beside Harry. Liam sat beside Zayn, completely oblivious to the glares Niall was giving Zayn.

"Here you go. On me," Niall grinned as he slid a shot of something over to Zayn. 

He held it up and then downed it, and then choked, and Niall had an evil smile plastered on his mouth, until Liam stood up and started to rub his back. 

Harry rolled his eyes and formed his fingers into an "O" as he jerked his hand back and forth quickly, as if saying: "wanker."

Niall nodded.

"Hey, H?" Liam said, still rubbing Zayn's back. But Zayn was perfectly fine now.

"Yeah?"

"What're you and Will doin' for Valentine's Day?"

Harry sipped his fruity drink that just arrived so that he could answer fully drunk. "Probably gonna do it a couple'a times and then he'll tell me that I'm a good partner and then he'll go to bed, 'cause we find Holidays are an excuse to just give people things," Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

"He sounds like a douche," Zayn said.

"I mean, no..." He couldn't think of a good defensive argument. Harry furrowed his brows and frowned. 

Zayn suddenly stood and shouted out, "Louuuuuuu!"

And then someone shouted back, "Maliiiiiiik!"

Harry lowered his head onto the bar top and felt Niall's fingers brush through his hair. "My life is terrible."

"No, it's wonderful. You have a boyfriend. You get laid whenever you want. Do you know how long it's been since I've gotten laid?" Niall quickly rambled out. "My hand isn't cutting it for me anymore."

Harry gagged and sat back up to rub his face clean from whatever crumbs just attached themselves to it. He turned around and watched Zayn hug this Lou guy, who was shorter than Zayn and had messy brown hair. 

"Go shag him," Harry said as he pointed to him. "Seems close to Zayn." Lou turned around and Harry widened as eyes. "Great ass!" Harry stared at it for just a moment longer and struggled to look away. "You can screw this guys friend to get back at him and enjoy it because he's fine as hell." He turned his head to wink at Niall.

"What happened to you, man?" Niall asked. "You used to be so...pure. You never would've given me this evil, yet excellent plan." He started to make his way out from behind the bar and walked over to Harry, eyes on Lou, and then fixed his hair. "Wish me luck."

Harry grabbed his fruity drink and watched. And was that true? What Niall said? Harry just blames the drinks. He always becomes weird when he's drunk. Will liked it when Harry was drunk because Drunk Harry meant Touchy Harry, not Sentimental Harry. He huffed and sucked his drink through the straw until he was out. He frowned and put it down on the bar. Liam and Zayn were standing closely together, and Zayn introduced Niall to Lou, and Lou nodded his head at Niall and shook his hand. Harry decided to stand up and join his friends because he felt left out. 

He walked behind Liam and threw his hands around his neck, smiling happily and watching Lou and Niall interact. "I ship it already." 

Liam shrugged. "Eh," he mumbled.

Lou looked at Harry and nodded his head, then held his hand out for him to shake. "M'Louis."

"Hi," Harry quietly said, because wow, Louis' eyes are really blue, and he's shorter than Harry, and his hair looks really soft. And then Harry was so mesmerized by this that he forgot to tell him his name, so they just shook each other's hands awkwardly.

"And your name is...?"

"Oh!" He pulled his hand away and put it on his burning cheeks. "H-Harry. My name is Harry but I'm not actually too hairy, you know? People make jokes about that a lot but I shave because I like the way it makes my skin feel. It's very soft. Wanna feel?" Harry held his arm out. 

Louis tried suppressing a smile as he felt of Harry's shaved arm. "Yes, soft indeed."

"Mhm," he proudly hummed. And then everyone started laughing at him. "I'm tipsy!"

"Far from tipsy, love," Louis laughed out.

Niall held up his middle fingers at Harry, and he's guessing it's for stealing Louis from him.

"I should go then, huh?" He said, more to Liam than anyone else. "Will might be worried if I don't turn up soon." Harry groaned and impulsively ran his hand through Louis' soft hair and frowned. "Sorry. Good-bye. Very nice meeting you. You have fantastic hair. So sorry for touching it."

"Nah, I don't mind a bit," he smiled out.

Harry might cry.

+

"And who was that?" Louis asked Zayn. He watched Harry stumble clumsily out of the bar and to the Uber he called for.

"Liam's friend Harry. Don't even try it, Lou, he's in a committed relationship."

"When has that ever stopped me before, laddy?" Louis smiled with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"You're disgusting," Zayn shook his head, smiling.

"And he shaves. Everything." 

"He didn't say everything!"

"I have a feeling he does, though," Louis sighed out. "Shame he's taken."

"Why are you in such a happy mood anyway?" Zayn questioned.

Louis rolled his eyes and flipped him off. Zayn is always questioning Louis about his mental health and stupid shit like that ever since he quit his job sometime last year. Sure, being a tattoo artist was the dream, but seeing so many people everyday annoyed him. Especially the people who were couples and got matching tattoos. Disgusting. 

Now he works as a waiter in some posh restaurant, and the amount of money he makes from tips alone from all of those snobby rich people almost makes him feel good about working there. 

"Oh, no. Okay. Don't turn around. Your ex just walked in. Let's go." Louis' heart dropped into his stomach. "Hey, Niall, can we sneak out the back?"

Louis gulped and swiveled around on his barstool to see it for himself. He glared and felt so much anger build up within him. And then Matt saw him, and apparently he thought it was a good idea to walk on over. 

"Louis," he said, shocked and taking a seat beside him. "You look...good. How are you?"

Louis narrowed his eyes. "In this moment? Been better." Matt had gotten chubbier. Louis doesn't know why that made him feel good, but it does. And he let his hair grow out, which annoys him, because he used to tell Matt he wanted it grown out all the time but he never did. 

Matt saw him staring at his hair and smiled. "Finally grew it out."

"To hide the massive forehead, I see. Well done."

Zayn choked on his drink behind him.

Matt frowned and looked away for a moment. "Hey, I've gotta... Louis, please let me apologize. The way I treated you, what I did..."

"Yes, the unconsensual drunken sex, all of the belittling--and my personal favorite: the body shaming! Oh, how I loved the way you said I was so fat and slutty and that no one could love an obese whore like me. You're apologizing for that, right?" 

Matt looked down at his hands and sighed. "Yes. And I know there's no excuses for how I was, but I was just a dumb guy driven by lust. I've gotten help. I've changed."

Louis grabbed the drink Zayn was about to chug down and poured it on Matt. "You're a heartless dick. I can't believe I ever bottomed for you." 

Louis grinned sarcastically and walked to the front door, opened it, turned, flipped Matt off, and walked outside.

Louis has never felt more alive.

+

"Harry, what's wrong?" Will asked him.

Harry sighed and waved him away. He was laying down on the expensive leather couch in Will's apartment, drunk and wanting to watch Rugrats.

And then he felt Will's hand on the back of his thigh. It started moving up. 

"Hey!" Harry groaned out, turning to hit his hand away. "Not tonight. Wanna watch my show."

Will stood up angrily. "Your show," he said with air quotes, "is a child's show, Harry."

"So young. Innocent. They have a potentially great future. And what do I have?"

"A boyfriend that wants to have sex with you."

Harry buried his face into the cushion and screamed. 

"Stop acting like a child!"

"I'm drunk!" Harry tried to say back, but the cushion pressed to his face turned it into: "umdruk."

"I'm going to bed. You can join me when you learn to behave like a man."

Harry slept on the couch that night.

+++

"Zayn, I've done something tragically wrong," Louis quickly said as he rushed out the door with one shoe in hand.

"Did you piss on the sidewalk aga--"

"No!" He ran outside and looked around, deciding to go left. "I slept with Matt."

The other end went silent. Louis looked at his phone and then put it back to his ear. "Hello? You there?"

"YOU DID WHAT?" Zayn shouted.

Louis frowned and put his other hand to his forehead, pressing the shoe onto the side of his face. 

A week had gone by the last time he'd seen Matt, and since then his confidence had reached its maximum. He was working and Matt had come into the restaurant with some friends and he tipped Louis a lot and was very sweet, and then Louis thought the best revenge was to give him some mind-blowing sex and then ditch, but now realizes how awful that idea was and how much Matt sucked at foreplay.

"I thought I made this elaborate plan to tear his heart into pieces but it's all gone down the toilet because I'm an idiot!" Louis shouted, still running because he felt like that's what he needed to do.

"What was your elaborate plan?"

"Sleep with him. Make him want more. Gave him my number in hopes that he'll call and then keep him thinking I actually want him until I just cut him off completely and he's the heartbroken mess." Okay. Maybe it wasn't such a bad plan.

"LOUIS, YOU IDIOT."

Louis' phone started to vibrate, so he pulled it away to see who it was, and crap. "Crap," Louis said. "Matt's calling."

"Don't you dare fu--"

Louis hung up and answered.

"Yeah?" Louis questioned, slowing down to a stop to catch his breath.

"Didn't expect you to leave so soon. Woke up and you were gone." Matt sounded genuinely sad. Bless.

"Needed to get to work."

"Right, right..." Matt paused, and then sighed. "Look, I know this is stupid, but Valentine's Day is in a couple of days and I just... Would you wanna go out? Have a drink? Some dinner?"

"You paying?" Louis asked.

"Yeah! Of course."

"I'll think about it."

"Great. Call or text me when you've thought it through, Lou."

"Okay." Louis hung up. He victoriously held his shoe up in the air. 

+

Harry put his tie on and stepped back to look at himself in the mirror. His suit looked great on him, honestly. Will walked on just as he was about to walk out, and smiled at his boyfriend.

"God, you look gorgeous." Will ran his hand through Harry's short hair. "And this haircut? You look wonderful."

Harry smiled and kissed his nose. "Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself."

"I tried," Will shrugged, and then walked him out to the car he had gotten for them. 

He made reservations at a restaurant for Valentine's Day and Harry almost cried when he told him. Harry thought they were going to sit around and shag like last year because Will hates this kind of stuff. Harry may have gotten him a little something, too, just for the heck of it. He'd always loved giving gifts and that was one of the ways he loved making people happy, too. He hadn't tried making other people happy in so long. His job was stressful and time consuming and downright boring most of the time. It had so much math. Harry hates math. 

The ride there was quiet and surprisingly cuddly. They both got out upon arriving and Harry smiled at the fancy looking restaurant in front of him, waiting for Will to walk with him to the door. After Will payed the driver, he grabbed Harry's hand, walked him to the door, and then opened it for him. Harry smiled and thanked him. 

"Reservation for Roberts?"

The hostess looked through her book and then smiled, looking to Will and then leading them both to their table. The lighting was dim and there was wine already poured into glasses. Harry took a sip once he sat down and happily smiled. 

"My favorite!"

Will opened his menu and started to look through it. Harry reached into his coat pocket and felt for the small box he put the gift in. Anxiously he pulled it out and set it on the table, figuring he should just get it over with. It took a few moments for Will to look away from the menu, but when he did he didn't look too pleased. 

"What's that?"

Harry shoved it towards him. "Open it."

Will reached for the box and did so. His emotionless face said enough. He pulled out the necklace that a small, silver rose clung to and stared.

"You got me a girls necklace?"

"No... That's for... Y'know, when we first met? I was going to pick up some roses and then I met you. I don't know. It was stupid and you don't like it, I'll just take it back."

Harry reached out for it and Will let him take it.

"I just don't understand. I thought we had an agreement? No presents or gifts or anything like that."

"I just wanted to do something nice for you. You're buying me dinner for today, so what's the big deal?" Harry asked, slouching back in his seat.

Will looked utterly confused. "I always buy dinner because it's the gentleman thing to do, and I brought you here to celebrate my promotion."

Harry shoved the necklace in his pocket and inhaled angrily. "So we're here to celebrate a promotion and not partake in the lovely Holiday that couples use to show how much they care for their significant other?"

"Harry, I hate Valentine's Day. You honestly thought...?"

"Yeah, I did. I'm so sorry that I wanted to do something normal couples do, William."

"How about you get that stick out of your ass? Did you not hear that I got a promotion?"

Harry threw a hand up. "You get a promotion practically every week! All you care about is work and sex." Suddenly a rush of emotions rolled out of Harry. His ears started to ring. And then everything he thought was okay about Will and brushed off came flooding out. "You're so caught up in work that you dragged me into it with you! I was going to do something I loved, and now I'm just doing things that everyone hates! 

"That's right, Will, no one likes those sales people in malls! They're annoying and liars! Believe me, I would know. I was a good guy that cared about people and loved flowers. I loved flowers and you took that joy away from me, you work-obsessed maniac!"

Will tapped his index finger on the table. Harry was well aware of all the eyes on him. "How long have you felt this way?"

"Long time. I guess."

"And is that it?"

Harry furrowed his brows and shook his head. He stood up. "No. You don't like presents. What kind of person doesn't like gifts? You're dull and rude." Harry grabbed the necklace and walked over to him and dropped it in his lap. "And I don't want to be with someone like that anymore."

The people in the restaurant started to clap as Harry walked out, and he tried to keep his head high, but nearly burst into tears on the way out. He was with Will for an entire year. He loved Will. But Harry thinks that's all it ever was. And he was so mean. Harry starts to turn, starts to run back to apologize, but someone runs out of the building and crashes in to him.

"Get out of the way--Hey, wait. You?"

Harry blinked and wiped his watery eyes. "Louis, hi."

"Why're you crying?"

Harry looked down and put his hands in his pockets. "Just broke up with my boyfriend." He sighed and looked at Louis, who was looking anxious and tense. "You okay?"

"No. Wanna go somewhere?"

Harry scratched his head was about to decline the offer, but someone else rushed out and started making his way towards Louis.

"Matt, don't you dare take another fucking step!" Louis shouted, walking backwards and into Harry once again.

"You bitch. Think you could play me like that, little whore?"

Harry widened his eyes. What the hell? This Matt guy was built but only a little shorter than Harry and he felt like that gave him leverage. He stepped in between them and glared at Matt. 

"Excuse you?"

"Who the hell are you?" Matt asked, stepping closer to Harry. 

Harry raised an eyebrow and turned his body fully towards Matt. "Someone that just broke up with their boyfriend. I'm fairly emotional so you really don't wanna piss me off, mate."

"Yeah? Watch gonna do?" Matt shoved Harry.

Harry stumbled and inhaled through his nose. Next thing he knew he was lunging forward and knocking Matt to the ground and kneeing him in the crotch. Louis gripped Harry by his jacket and pulled him off.

"Hey! Calm down, it's okay."

Harry gulped and looked at Matt, who was groaning and moaning. "I've never fought anyone before," he quietly said.

"Everyone does at least once in their life." Louis rubbed his shoulders. "Let's go."

Louis led Harry away from it all and he didn't question where he was being led to. He stopped at this cafe with outside seating and motioned for Harry to sit with him, which he did.

"I'm not like this, I swear," Harry blurted out. "I'm not violent! I used to be too nice to even talk like that."

"Hey, don't go regretting it on me. You're my hero," Louis happily said. "My handsome hero, who I'll gladly buy a cup of tea."

Harry flushed and smiled. "Thanks."

"No, thank you. That guy is my worst nightmare."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "If it's all right, can I ask why were with him? Today, of all days?"

Louis, who looked really pretty with his blue eyes, pursed his lips and sighed. "Was trying to get revenge but it didn't work out too well."

"He seemed like a jerk."

"Complete asshole."

"Jerkhole."

Louis snorted and nodded. "Jerkhole."

Harry started to play with the napkins on the table, glad he made Louis laugh. Will never laughed at his jokes or anything like that. It made Harry shove it all away. He fears he'll never be like the same Harry again now.

"So was your boyfriend a jerkhole too?"

"He told me to quit my dream of having my own flower shop and got me an office job."

Louis nodded. "Jerkhole material."

Harry laughed. "Yes, that he definitely is. I don't know why I stayed with him for a year."

"Sometimes you can just be blinded..." Louis trailed off, watching Harry's fingers as they toyed with the napkin.

"I wonder what it would've been like if I never met Will," Harry muttered. 

"I shouldn't've quit my job. Then I wouldn't have run into Matt."

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"I was a tattoo artist."

Harry gasped. "For real? That's so cool!" Harry shoved off his jacket and started to roll up his sleeves to show Louis. "I've got tattoos."

"Yes, I remember." Louis ran his fingers across Harry's tatted arms. "At the bar you made me touch your arms, remember? I noticed them then."

"Ugh, I was so drunk."

"But you do have really soft skin," Louis said with a wink.

Harry opened his mouth slightly, tingles shooting through his body. He's never felt anything like this before. 

"You're, like, really pretty," Harry quietly said while looking down, his hands now in his lap.

"And you're beautiful, Harry. Quite like the suit on you."

"Yeah?" He asked, looking up and sounding too happy.

Louis nodded with a smile. "Mhm. Wish I could rip it off of you and show you just how beautiful you are, right here on this table. Kiss your soft skin. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Aye, Captain."

-

Harry woke up with a shout and sat up. He took a good look around and took in the room. This was definitely Louis' room.

"Harry?" Louis came rushing in with a spatula in hand. "You okay?" He took a step closer and frowned. "Baby, you're sweating. Are you coming down with something?"

"I just had the most horrible dream," Harry started. Louis was trying to feel his temperature. "We never met and instead I met with awful guy named Will and Liam was with Zayn and you slept with Matt and we weren't together and I started speaking pirate and I didn't sell flowers and I was a business man working in an office and I hated my life and I didn't have you, Louis, I didn't have you!"

"Okay, breathe. In and out." Louis inhaled and exhaled; Harry did the same. "Just a dream. I'm right here. I'm yours."

Harry nodded and rested his head on Louis' chest. "I think I had that nightmare because I cut my hair," he said with a frown. Then he realized something. "Please don't tell me you're cooking."

"I love your new haircut." Louis ran his fingers through Harry's very short hair. "And...maybe... But it's Valentine's Day. Let me do something nice, goofball."

"Jerkhole," Harry remembered.

"Huh?"

"Something we laughed about in my dream. And then you wanted to rip my clothes off and then I spoke like a pirate?"

"All right. If you're into that type of stuff, we can do it tonight, but for the rest of the day, you're gonna give me my presents."

"How did you know I got you more than one?"

"Clear your computer history next time, love. Also... Neon pink vibrators? Really?"

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. "I was just browsing..."

Something burnt started to drift through the air.

"Ah, shit, my pancakes!" Louis hurried into the kitchen and Harry fell back onto the bed and huffed.

Harry never wants to dream again.


	48. ✿38✿

Harry flung himself on his bed (that Niall officially took over) and shut his eyes for a moment. The bed was clean of his sheets, the only thing left on the mattress was a memory foam pad that he's going to leave for Niall. Most of his things are out of his room now, but for some reason, he's just emotionally exhausted. The inspirational quotes his mother used to have littered around the house was gently placed in a box. His childhood photo albums were now stored with some tapes of himself as a baby that he got from his Grandmother when he moved out.

He remembered when he first moved in. He felt so proud to live independently and he spent the first night wondering why the WiFi wasn't working and trying to fix it. His first date he had in this apartment was an absolute disaster and he accidentally burnt the food. His met his best friends because of this place. He cried out some lonely nights on this bed, and because of the thin walls, Liam and Niall would always sneak in and try to comfort him. 

"You okay?"

Harry inhaled and quickly wiped away a few tears that fell down his cheeks. He sat up and nodded towards Louis, who was leaning against the doorway staring. He pushed himself off and moved over to Harry, taking a seat beside him. Harry inhaled again, not wanting to cry, but he always ends up crying when someone offers him a shoulder, and Louis literally did, so he leaned his head against Louis' shoulder and cried.

"I don't know why I'm so emotional, it's not like I'll never be here again," he said with a frown as he wiped his eyes. Louis rubbed his lower back soothingly. "Remember when you sang to me here?"

"Remember all the make-out sessions here?"

Harry lifted his head and shoved Louis, but he only laughed and then Harry started laughing as well. And then Niall walked in. Harry got choked up on his words.

"Niall, buddy," Harry said as he stood up to hug Niall.

Niall hugged him back and let out a loud sob. "I'm just so happy that I won't have to hear Liam's loud snoring anymore." 

"Thin walls, mate!" Liam shouted as he walked up behind them. 

"Is it weird that you guys are dating and living together?" Louis suddenly blurted.

"No, because it's like how it was only we like each other a lot and we kiss more," Niall spoke with a shrug.

"You kissed before?" Louis asked.

"Once." Liam scratched his head. "We were drunk."

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed the last box off the floor that had his mothers stuff in it. "Right, well. Guess we're off," he says as he headed for the door. "Back for supper at seven!"

Louis followed him out and walked with him to the car. Harry had spent the time after Christmas slowly packing his things up. The process of trying to find a place to live in is really difficult money wise, especially since Harry's job isn't an exactly stable one. But he's been looking at jobs for the time being so that he can get more money in for rent and start saving back more for his own flower shop. Louis' as supportive as ever and told him he didn't have to, but Harry insisted. He wants to do more, is all. He feels like he isn't doing enough. 

Right after they drop the last few boxes off at Louis' apartment, they're meeting up with a few people to look at some apartments in the city. Louis told Harry not to be expecting anything too amazing, but Harry doesn't care because he's with Louis. He's going to officially move in with Louis. He's already living with him, but he feels that after they get their place, it will be...theirs, not "Louis' apartment" anymore. 

They hurried with dropping the boxes off at the apartment so that they wouldn't be late. They've looked at a few apartments before but nothing really spoke to them, or it was infested with rats. 

"I'm fine with a studio," Harry said. 

"I know you are, babe, but when we have people over, I don't want them partying in our bedroom."

Harry rolled his eyes. "We'll get those thingies that you see girls using in those old movies that they change behind. You know what I'm talking about? We'll just get a bunch of those and put them around the bed."

Louis grabbed Harry's hand and then patted it. "I get what you're saying. But no."

Harry huffed and pulled his hand out of Louis' to cross his arms. "They're cheap."

"Because the bathroom is usually in the kitchen," Louis argued.

"You're usually in the kitchen," he quietly said, but when he said it, he realized how much of a bad comeback that was.

"Is baby upset?" Louis mocked, reaching out to tickle Harry. "Does baby need some food?"

Harry was laughing but trying not to which only resulted in a very loud snort. He swatted Louis' hand away and shouted at him for not paying attention to the road when they swerved, so Louis put his hand back on the wheel with an accomplished smile on his face. 

"Jerkhole."

"Where did baby hear such a bad word!" Louis shook his head and put his hand over his heart. "When we're done here, I'm going to call that school and give them a piece of my mind. My baby is getting a very bad influence."

Harry hit Louis' shoulder. "All right, all right. I'm done. You can stop acting like that now."

"But can you guess who I was pretending to be?" Louis asked, glancing over to Harry.

He shrugged. "Dunno, middle aged woman?"

"With three children, thank you very much," Louis spoke with a nod.

"Of course. And the Oscar goes to..." Harry bent over and picked up a water bottle from the floor (Louis' car was always filled with trash). "Louis Tomlinson, for Best Middle Aged Woman impersonation!"

Louis reached over and grabbed the water bottle, holding it up with feign pride and watery eyes. "I'd like to thank not only God, but Jesus. And my boyfriend for always believing in me. MOMMA, I MADE IT," he happily shouted out, holding the water bottle in the air. Harry was a giggling mess.

"I'm so glad no one else can hear us," Harry said with a shake of his head.

+

They met with the owner of the space they were looking at, which was conveniently only a few blocks away from where they both worked. The lady that welcomed them was a happy looking short woman that reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley from Harry Potter. 

"Quite an old building, but has lots of character," Janet said, while unlocking it.

The building itself was made of brick, so he isn't very surprised to see brick when he walked in. It did was an old building; it looked like it was a shop of sorts back when it was being used. The front entrance of the building had large windows that showed off the inside. 

"I know what you're thinking," she laughed as they all went inside. "'Why is this woman showing us an old boutique store?' Well, at the price, I just couldn't help but show you this. It's well below the budget, so you can put money towards the exterior work. You've just got to have imagination here." She gestured towards the empty space around them. "Make a big living area out of this, maybe, but the actual apartment is upstairs."

Harry wanted to cry. It was beautiful. Louis looked terrified as he motioned to the ceiling that was sporting a very ugly water stain, but Harry just saw a flower shop. A big flower shop that he lived above. He imagined the prettiest of flowers hanging in the windows to draw in costumers, and then inside would be rows and rows of the beautiful flowers that he'd grow himself. He thought of paying local flower growers to get their stuff sent in, thought of painting the brick white to give the room more brightness. He gripped Louis with watery eyes as she guided them upstairs.

"And what makes this so below budget?" Louis asked.

Harry frowned. Of course. There's something wrong with it. Nothing this fantastic could be so cheap. 

"There was a mold problem that scared everyone away from investing, and after time, the vintage look of it wore off and people weren't interested in buying an old, worn down place. There's no mold now, obviously. This building has been sitting here for too long," she sighed out. She seemed to be very fond of it. 

She unlocked the door at the top of the stairs and pushed it open, letting the both of them walk in with a smile. 

It looked like the living room they walked into, with a couple of windows showing the road ahead. It was cute and enough room for Louis' couches and things. Then it opened to the kitchen (which Harry thought was the most important thing). He eyed the aged stove and cabinets, knew he'd have to invest in a newer stove, but didn't mind the cabinets. New knobs would make it look wonderful. It was a surprisingly spacious area, bigger than Louis' own kitchen, which his bar was taking most space of. 

Harry turned and looked at the opposing wall, and then squinted his eyes. A decent sized table would fit great there. Maybe a squared one. 

Louis let him think, knew if he interrupted Harry would have to start all over (they e been threw this a lot), and when Harry turned to both of them with a smile, he could see a weight lifted from Louis' shoulders. Come to think of it, he doesn't think he's approved of any kitchens so far. 

"Any problems with the kitchen?" Harry asked. "We'd need a new stove, Lou."

"None whatsoever! This area was the most well taken care of, I believe. Just needs some technical advancements."

Harry nodded. "Great! Let's see more," he excitedly said. 

She started walking down the hall, opened one of three doors, and said, "first bathroom."

It was small and had a tub instead of a shower. Harry already knew he didn't want the old tub there, but flushed when he thought how useful a tub could be when living with Louis. "Quite nice," he squeaked out. 

She nodded and showed them a room. It was small and facing the road. "This is the extra bedroom. Had the carpet pulled up a few months ago and discovered this beautiful wood, no doubt original."

They both looked down; Harry hoped the master bedroom wasn't carpet. 

It wasn't. Instead, it was facing the back of the house and had a beautiful window that offered a lot of light inside. It was spacious and had beautiful hardwood floors, which made Harry feel ten pounds lighter. Carpets stain, is all. He hates shampooing carpets and constantly vacuuming them. 

All in all, the place was magnificent and was everything Harry hoped for in a home. With a little makeover, it would be perfect. Harry held tightly to Louis' hand, unable to keep himself from bouncing a little.

"What do you guys think?" She asked, all of them back in the living room.

"Could use some work, but it's really not the worst we've seen, huh?" Louis said, looking over to Harry.

He just shook his head and smiled.

They all walked back down and said they'd get back with her later on, and once they were back in the car, Harry put his hand on his chest and exhaled loudly.

"That's it, that's the one," he said, staring at it.

"Really? Seems a little... much," Louis shrugged.

"I could...open my flower shop right there, Lou! Right there!" Harry shouted, pointing out the window. "Unless you wouldn't want that." Harry turned to Louis. "What do you want?"

Louis furrowed his brows, looking past Harry and to the building, and then sighing loudly. "It's obviously the best one we've seen..."

"Obviously."

"And the price, well. Can't beat it."

"Nun-uh."

"Needs a lot of work, H."

"I'm a hard worker, ask anyone."

Louis stared at Harry. "You sure about it?"

Harry nodded too quickly. "Absolutely."

Louis sighed again and scratched his head. "I feel so domestic and thirty. What're you doing to me? I need a night out to feel young again."

"Is that a yes or no...?" Harry anxiously asked.

"Yes, of course. Can't deny you your biggest dream in life."

Harry cried and stumbled out of the car to chase after Janet. She had just gotten into her car when Harry found her, and he must've looked crazy, but he went to her with tears and told her they wanted it, and she got out and hugged him happily and shook hands with Louis and Harry thought his life could never be filled with such joy like it is now.

+

"Is that the last of it?" Harry asked, looking around his filled up home. 

Niall walked in with a box larger than him and set it down with a grunt. "Now it is." He looked around and nodded in approval at the place. "I could open a bar downstairs, mate."

"No. This isn't How I Met Your Mother, I don't want to live on top of a bar," Harry quickly denied. Niall shrugged and mumbled something to himself and walked into the the kitchen.

Harry sat back against the couch in the living room and looked outside, staring at people walking down the streets and a cute cat pawing at the ground. Louis sat down next to him and nudged his side; Harry turned his head and was met with a kiss. He smiled and tackled Louis, pinning him down and squeaking. "We have a home!" He yelled out. "I've never been so broke!"

"Same here!" Louis yelled back.

Harry kissed him sweetly and felt a shiver go down his spine from the way Louis' cold lip ring felt against his lips. Louis had been leaving it out and just recently put it back in. Harry missed the lip ring. 

"Aye, mates, get a room!" Niall yelled. He always sounded most Irish when he was angry or flustered. He must be flustered. "Tryin' to help some friends out, and ya don' even have the decency to wait until I leave the bloody room! Go fack yourselves, every one of yeh!"

"Chill!" Louis said, sitting up and messing with his hair. "Someone needs to get laid."

"Takin' it slow, Liam and I, so," Niall unhappily sighed. "My work here is done. You're welcome." Then Niall walked out and flipped them both off. 

"I'll start on dinner!" Harry happily said as he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. "Yes, hello. I'd like two large pizza's, one with pepperoni and one with pineapple." Harry giggled to himself when Louis rolled his eyes and started to open up a box to unpack.

Harry felt, for the first time in a long time, that something this amazing, is actually going to last.


	49. ❁39❁

Harry assumed getting a new tub and kitchen appliances would be the worst part of it all. The financial dent it took from both of their savings was definitely something to be upset about, but no, Harry found something he hated even more: unpacking. Louis has been working everyday, coming home late and taking on more people than needed to get some extra cash, while Harry has taken it upon himself to stay at his new home and figure things out. 

Before they moved in, the downstairs was the first that was fixed up, surprisingly. It underwent a paint job and some serious labor to figure out how Harry wanted to set up his shop. But for now, he let the new paint job and a few adjustments here and there be all with it for the time being, because he needed to focus on his and Louis' home. 

He went to a thrift store not too long ago and purchased a few pieces that really made the living area look wonderful. A distressed white coffee table was in the center of the room, new curtains on the windows, and a large clock next to the television. In the kitchen was a chandelier hanging above the squared table that matched the small living room one, and of course the new kitchen appliances. 

Harry watched a lot of HGTV shows on Netflix and told Louis the backsplash in the kitchen needed to be changed as soon as possible. 

In their master bedroom, the only thing Harry changed was the paint. He changed it from red brick to white to open the room up a little bit more (he was devoted to those shows), and then he got a new headboard and frame for their bed. And he got gray sheets for it. Harry wanted a bright blue, but Louis strongly disagreed and told him gray always looked better. 

The extra room, for now, was being used as storage for things they didn't have room for, didn't know where to put, or didn't feel like unpacking yet. 

Harry, only now sitting down on the couch after a long day of unpacking little things and cooking supper, turned on the TV and waited patiently for Louis' return. It was nearing 7:45, the latest he's been out so far. But not only moments later did Harry hear the downstairs door being unlocked and the light footsteps nearing the front door. Louis opened it and entered the room with a loud sigh.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, walking to Harry and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before he walked down the hall to change into something more comfortable.

"Pasta," Harry said as he stood up to get him a plate. "How was work?"

"Had to tattoo a clover on some bloke's ass," Louis nonchalantly replied while entering the kitchen in sweatpants. His arms snaked around Harry's waist while he was filling a plate up with food. "Then some girl on her eighteenth birthday came in absolutely wasted. Told her I couldn't give her a tattoo that drunk. She picked up the plant you gave me and threw it on the floor, sorry."

"Aw, no! Poor Paul the plant. That was a good shrub."

Louis kissed Harry's neck softly. "Mhm," he hummed.

Harry smiled and shrugged Louis off him, handing him his plate. "Go eat!" Louis grabbed it and a fork and sat down at the table. Harry, having already eaten, walked around the kitchen. "Notice anything?"

Louis looked up from his food and furrowed his brows, looking up and down Harry, then took a quick look around him. A moment passed before he widened his eyes and looked around happily. "Oh! You unpacked everything!"

"I did!" Harry happily clapped, feeling as domestic as ever. He loved this all too much. "Got the bathrooms new shower curtains, too."

"We'll have to see if they're sturdy enough," Louis said, suggestively wiggling his brows.

Harry blushed and rolled his eyes, but the feeling he got in his stomach when Louis kissed him or spoke like that returned. It's something that will never pass, he believes. Not when it comes to Louis. The butterflies will always be there. The tingles will always shoot through his body when he receives the simplest of touches from the man he loves. 

"I'm gonna go paint my nails now, 'cause I got a new color," Harry rushed out, still heavily blushing as he moved to the living room and sat on the floor. He took a magazine off the coffee table and put it between his legs, nail polish in hand as he shook it hard. 

The new color was a dark, muted pink that he thought was really pretty. Lately he's been into painting his nails a lot more, venturing out from black and grays, to pinks and blues. Louis liked it, but didn't quite enjoy it when Harry painted his thumb bright blue and his middle fingers a pastel pink. Harry said, "at least they'll look pretty when you give someone the bird." Harry thinks this is why Louis kept that on, but washed away the blue.

He double-coated his left hand in the fingernail polish, and whined out Louis' name.

"Louuuuuuuuu," he dragged out, trying to get Louis to look up from his phone. "Loooooouuuuu-bearrrrrrrrr."

"Whaaaaaaat?" Louis replied, finally putting his phone down as he got up to put his plate in the sink. He walked into the living room and waited for Harry to say something.

"Do you think you can paint my right hand?"

Louis grumbled unhappily but got down on the floor and supported himself up by his elbows. "I'm only doing this because I love you, y'know," he frowned out, grabbing the nail polish and twisting off the cap.

Harry got his phone out and sneakily took a picture of Louis painting his index finger. He posted it on Instagram with the caption: "the only reason why i'm keeping him around." 

He added a few heart and flower emoji's before putting the phone down. He finally looked at how Louis was doing, and saw that it wasn't too well at all. Harry shook his head.

"I could've done better than that!"

"Hey, I do tattoo's, not fingernails, kitten."

Harry slightly pouted and decided to let Louis finish. 

+

"Girls!" Louis happily said while his younger sisters hugged him.

It was spring break for them, and Louis convinced his Mum to let them stay with them for the week. Felicite, Daisy, and Phoebe dragged their luggage in with smiles and Harry hugged them all too, and then showed them to the extra room. 

Harry talked to Louis about his sisters and wondered if they could come down anytime soon, but they couldn't because of school. But when spring break approached, Harry cleaned out the room that was filled with boxes and had Louis set up a bed.

"One of you will have to sleep on the air mattress we got, though," Harry said as they piled into the room barely big enough for the queen sized bed. 

"What's going on with everything downstairs?" Felicite asked once she put her things away. 

"Oh! I'm opening up my flower shop. It's undergoing some construction for it right now."

And it was going extremely well. The placement arrangement for how he was going to set up his flowers was what he was focusing mainly on, going back and forth from carpenters that could make him the things he needs, or buy it and have someone put it together. He didn't really know what to even look for. He had to look up "stuff you see in flower shops that hold a lot of flowers" and discovered that he's going to be even more broke than he planned. Louis, the beautiful and amazing man he is, told Harry to try not to tap too much into his flower shop savings for their home. Homes are expensive. Trying to start up a business is just the same.

After figuring out sleeping arrangements, they all decided to hit the town and go out to eat for the evening. Louis said it'll be rare for them to come to the city and wanted to spoil them all, and even though they're tipping more and more towards being broke everyday, Harry couldn't help but happily allow it. He loves making people happy, especially people that felt like his family.

"What do you guys even like these days?" Louis asked on the way out. He started locking everything up.

"Makeup," Daisy said. They were all nodding in agreement.

"So no toys? Or pink stuff?" Louis quietly asked, cheeks tinting with pink.

"We're not five!" Phoebe laughed out, nudging Louis' side. "I do like pink lipstick. If that's any help."

As they all started walking and searching for a makeup store, Louis mentioned that Madeline might swing by with Zeke, because she was watching him and taking him out for the day. It'd been a while since she and Louis hung out, and the girls were surprisingly happy to meet her. Felicite said something about wondering what all of his friends were like.

In no time they found themselves in a makeup store surrounded by girls with winged eyeliner and a couple of boys who seemed to both have purple highlighter on. Harry was beyond fascinated. Everyone sort of scattered, leaving Harry to look around in confusion. Why were makeup brushes so expensive? 

"Anything I can help you with?" Said a boy with one of the purple highlighters on. 

Harry turned and put down mascara with a leather tube. "No. No, thank you," Harry smiled, twiddling his thumbs. "I like your makeup."

The boy looked flattered and smiled widely, putting a hand over his chest. "Thank you! I like your nail polish."

"Thanks," Harry flushed.

"So what brings you here today?" 

Harry spotted Louis and then he was walking over with something small in his hands, holding it up in shock. "This looks like a butt plug," Louis said to him. He put it down on the shelf behind him and turned to Lane, who had his name on his shirt. "Hello."

"Hi! And that's actually a new shipment of lipstick. I didn't realize it looked like that until now..." Lane said, head tilting as he stared. Then he cleared his throat. "Sorry, do you need help with anything?"

Louis shook his head. "Maybe my sisters do. Or not. They're talking about conforing? Is that even a word?"

Lane laughed and the light hit his purple highlighter. "Contouring!"

Harry grabbed Louis' hand and couldn't help but laugh too. Louis' just really cute, is all.

"Oh, my god," Lane said, eyeing their hands and then he made a face and waved his hand over it. "I cannot. Literally cannot!" He happily said. "You guys are the cutest, wow. So cute. And lucky. Do you know how hard it is to find someone nowadays? Bloody awful time to be single!"

Louis looked suddenly uncomfortable. This wasn't Louis' area of expertise, but it was Harry's.

"I can imagine," Harry said with a shake of his head. "They're either weirdo's or taken."

Lane shook his head quickly in agreement. "I attract them both. Well, wish you the best in your lovely relationship. If you need anything, I'm Lane, so just shout it out." He smiled and walked away.

Harry turned to Louis with a grin. "We should come down here more often."

"Do you think we should look for something for Daisy and Pheobe's birthday? It's at the end of the week. Mum texted and said she was going to throw them a party, but I can't make it because of work. Maybe we should take them out or something? They're turning thirteen, so isn't that, like, a big deal?"

Harry inhaled and nodded, deep in thought. "I'll take care of it. It'll be fun! I remember when I turned thirteen, my mum got me all of these plants and stuff to try and make my own little garden out of. It was the best."

"I got a new video game and some shoes for my thirteenth."

Harry smiled and kissed Louis on the forehead because he looked too cute. And then they paid for the makeup the girls wanted, and holy Jesus, when did that become so expensive? 

Madeline and Zeke were in the store across the street shopping for clothes. Louis herded everyone across the street in a very protective manner and told them to stay close as he joined their friend towards the back of the store.

"That's horrific," Louis instantly said upon seeing a shirt Madeline was holding up to her body. She rolled her eyes. It had a lot of lines and patterns that didn't flow too well together. "My eyes are being damaged just by looking at it."

"So Zayn wouldn't like it?" She asked, defeated. 

Louis put a hand on his chest and looked offended. "Do you not know your man at all? Honey, he's a fashionable man. He wouldn't dare wear this rubbish." Louis disgustingly gestured towards the rack of the other shirts she was looking at.

"Your stereotypical gay is showing," she muttered underneath her breath. 

Zeke walked over to Harry with his arm crossed and his fingers on his chin, eyeing the clothes suspiciously as if they were about to attack him. 

"Hey, little man," Harry said.

Zeke nodded in acknowledgment. "Thinkin' of gettin' some chains."

Harry only now realized what he was wearing. It all looked like leather. He had on a black tank top and a leather vest, with leather pants and black boots. Harry stumbled back a little, shocked and confused, before nodding slowly.

"Are you?"

"Yeah," he said, shrugging lazily. "Maybe get my ears pierced."

"Mads, something is happening to Zeke!" Harry told her, bending down to inspect him. "Did you try to draw facial hair?" He asked while sticking his thumb out to rub against Zeke's jaw, and what looked like makeup came off on his thumb. 

Zeke swatted Harry's hand away. Harry stood and wondered where the cute six-year-old boy went. 

"He's going through a phase," is all Madeline said. Then she went back to shopping with Louis' help.

Zeke was walking around the store with his arms crossed, legs jutting out farther than normal with every step he took to apparently seem manly and rugged. The zippers on his boots jingled loudly. 

"Do you still like dinosaurs?"

"I like motorcycles," he said in a low voice. And then he dabbed. Harry shook his head in horror.

"Oh, innocent Zeke . . . What have they done to you?" Harry whispered.

Zeke walked by a girl that looked around his age and winked confidently. Harry quickly ducked down and picked him up; the little kid didn't like this very much. He shouted out loudly, causing a scene, and Harry put him down in the corner of the store and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"You're six, what happened?"

"Seven now!" Zeke corrected.

"Okay, seven. I want the old Zeke back."

"He's gone, mate. Gone like my childhood."

Harry widened his eyes. The boy was only seven. It was a little ridiculous, but apparently Zeke was sticking with this whole thing, so Harry let him go and joined Madeline and Louis with a shake of his head.

"He's gone bonkers."

"Last week he wanted to be Lady Gaga, so this really is just a phase, Harry," Madeline told him with a laugh. 

Harry shook his head but couldn't help but smile. "Did you happen to get pictures of that?"

"Did I!" She loudly said, whipping out her phone. "He tried to tape sandwich meat to himself!"

+

They ended up going to a trampoline park for the girls' birthday, and Harry thinks Louis is having more fun than the twins are. 

But they were both really happy to be there, saying stuff about how they didn't expect to do anything and just wanted to spend time with Louis. Which was too sweet to even believe that it came out of a teenagers mouth.

Gifts were exchanged and Harry convinced Louis to splurge a little since they weren't with their friends on their birthday, so spoiling them had to happen. 

Harry had gone back to the makeup store to see Lane and ask about what makeup thirteen-year-old's would like, and he definitely hooked them up. He didn't know what over half of it was, but Daisy and Phoebe flipped with they saw what they got and started rubbing the products all over their fingers and on their arms. Harry watched, fascinated once again, and kept the questions about why they wanted to get their arms dirty to himself.

And then they had a trampoline match. Whoever could do the most front flips got candy. Surprisingly Louis won and rubbed it in everyone's faces, but wasn't so pleased knowing that he had to pay for his own candy. 

After some rough, tiring hours, they all gathered their things together and headed home sweaty and exhausted. Everyone rushed to get their showers so that they could get to bed, and Harry and Louis had to wait patiently for everyone to get done before they took their own.

"Better not be a bloody mess in my bathroom!" Louis shouted as he walked into their room. 

Harry fell onto the bed and groaned. "Tired," he quietly said. 

Louis walked out of the bathroom in their room and sighed. "Same. The hot water's probably gone."

"Should've just gotten a shower for the middle bathroom instead of a new tub," he huffed out, rolling around on the bed, too comfortable to get up.

"Hey," Louis said, walking over to Harry and tapping at his back. "The girls are in bed. Let's take a bath."

"Together? While they're here?" Harry asked. A bath with him would sound nice. He'd make Louis wash him. Because he's too tired.

"Yeah. We'll be quiet."

Normally Harry would be against it because it's inappropriate to do things like that with guests over. But he's exhausted and a good bath from the man he loves sounds so pleasant that he caved in just a few moments. Louis looked equally as shocked at how easy Harry complied. 

Harry forced Louis to get everything ready so all he had to do was get in the bath and practically sleep in Louis' arms. He almost fell asleep on the bed, but Louis walked over and jostled him out of his spaced out mind and guided him quietly to the bathroom. 

Inside the lights were off and candles were lit and Harry nearly died because Louis made it so romantic and cute. Harry looked at Louis and was about to squeal at how thoughtful it was, but Louis' eyes narrowed and he pressed his finger to his lips to shush him.

And then Louis took off his clothes and Harry looked away to be nice when Louis slid into the water, but really, Louis probably couldn't care less if Harry stared. Harry's cheeks were pink and Louis was expectantly staring at Harry, waiting.

"Can you..." Harry trailed off, then placed his hand over his eyes.

"Serious," Louis grumbled out, and then closed his eyes. "I've seen you naked plenty of times. You're about to be in a bath with me."

Harry knew how foolish it was, of course, but couldn't help it. He felt shy and embarrassed and quickly removed his clothes, keeping his own hand over Louis' eyes as he got in the tub and cozied himself between Louis' legs. 

"Can I open them now?"

Harry giggled. "Yes."

"I can see your junk through the bubbles, y'know," Louis said as he dipped the loofa into the water. 

"Don't stare. It's impolite," Harry quietly said as he leaned back against Louis chest. "Now cleanse me."

Louis laughed lightly and Harry shut his eyes as the loofa dragged against his chest in an oddly pleasant way. Louis spoiled Harry and they both knew it.

"You going to wash me next?" 

"Depends."

"On what?"

"If I'm asleep by then or not," Harry laughed out.

Louis splashed water on him and Harry pinched Louis' thigh as a way of getting him back. 

"Rude."

"Don't worry, I'm not that mean," Harry sighed out, lifting his head up to kiss Louis' chin. Then he just kept his head lifted up to look at Louis because Louis' face is worth staring at for a long time. Especially in moments like these.

Louis is beautiful and Harry will always find himself staring at him absentmindedly. It's just . . . there's something about him that makes him so captivating. He's got such youthful skin and the subtle hair on his jaw matures him in a very attractive way. And his eyes are definitely Harry's favorite thing. It's one of the first things he noticed when he saw Louis. They're just a beautiful explosion of blue mixed with bits of green and Harry could just write a four-hundred paged poem about how beautiful his eyes are, honestly.

"You're staring again," Louis said. He looked smug but tried to hide it.

"I just love you too much."

Louis rolled his eyes and finally looked at Harry. "Sap."

"Always."

"Maybe always can be our okay."

"You just flipped the Hazel and Gus thing."

"Because Isaac was the real star of that book, let's be real."

"If we're going to talk about mainstream books, we need to talk about Simon and Baz."

Louis groaned. "Not again."

"Carry On is easily the best thing out there on the mainstream list. I demand a movie," Harry firmly said.

"You just wanna see Baz on the big screen 'cause you're attracted to him," Louis said, rubbing the loofa up and down Harry's arm.

He protested as quietly as he could. "Hey! You're the only person I'll find attractive for as long as I live. Baz is just . . ."

"A hot vampire?"

"Are you jealous?" Harry asked, realization settling in his tired brain. 

Louis scoffed. "'Course not."

"Right. Because why be jealous of a fictious gay vampire?"

"It's absurd."

Harry narrowed his eyes in on Louis and how he was too concentrated on scrubbing Harry's shoulder. 

"Liar."

Louis dropped the loofa in the water and grabbed the soap, squirting a lot in the palm of his hand before massaging it firmly onto Harry's chest. Louis looked determined and Harry felt suddenly attacked by how nice it felt, especially when Louis' fingers slowly made their way to Harry's shoulders.

"Playing dirty," Harry mumbled, head falling back on Louis. He struggled to keep his eyes open.

Louis only hummed, not confirming or denying, which only confirmed it for Harry, and let him finish with the bath massage. Because again, Louis spoils Harry, even with his pent up jealousy from a fictional character that Harry is only slightly fond of. 

And then Louis' hands started going south, his hands rubbing at Harry's stomach, slowly getting lower until he reached his hips and the movements of Louis' fingers got suddenly very sensual, unlike how they were on his shoulders somehow. His fingers rubbed more deeply and slowly and Harry felt a feeling shoot through him that felt all too familiar when he was with Louis. 

Harry didn't know what Louis was thinking, but couldn't keep his eyes off of Louis' hands. Surely not, Harry thought, as he watched Louis' hand travel to a certain area. Surely not. . . .

And then he gasped, because he surely did, and he found himself awkwardly splashing his hands around in the water, not knowing what to do with them as Louis slowly (teasingly) worked on him. 

"Lou," Harry quietly exhaled out, shocked and feeling too much pleasure to really say much else.

Louis' free hand grabbed Harry's and guided it to the edge of the tub, and Harry found himself doing the same thing with his other hand to have something to hold on to.

And Louis continued, hand moving as slowly as ever, enough for Harry to feel a lot but not enough. 

"Lou," Harry said again, this time with meaning behind the word. 

And Louis seemed to catch on, because his hand tightened but the pace went faster, and Harry jerked unexpectedly, mouth open, eyes wide, chin lifting in the air but his head still pressed against Louis' chest. 

He felt incredibly safe as if he was in this private section in the world, where only he and Louis existed, and he was free to feel so wrapped in love and pleasure and so many things that it made his brain go into overdrive. And then it's like they were shoved in a section in his mind and he felt peace and calmness and too spacey to even hear how loud the sounds he was making was. Apparently it was a little too loud, because Harry felt Louis' free hand wrap around his mouth to muffle the sounds. Harry was sure Louis told him to be quiet, but it sounded distorted and distant. 

Harry's fingertips dug into Louis' forearm when he tried pulling his hand away. He knew he couldn't keep the sounds in if he tried, and he liked the way Louis was trying to force him to keep quiet. The hand stayed and the other one, soft and firm, didn't slow down. He would jerk every so often due to the immense pleasure, and that seemed to fuel Louis on even more, because he'd change the technique and rhythm and Harry just couldn't keep up with it. 

His head fell back against Louis' shoulder, eyes slowly blinking as he tried to focus, but his eyes were going blurry, and he found himself grasping onto the edge of the tub again, suddenly hyperaware of his sounds and the noises in the water, and the way his hips moved, desperate. His teeth dug into the palm covering his mouth, head slightly lifting, body curving and toes pressing firmly against the tub as he reached the peak of his pleasure, eyes rolling and hips spasming. Waves of ecstasy washed over him and then suddenly crashed down heavily and he felt himself sink.

He felt exhaustion fall onto him like a ton of bricks, but contentment and happiness eased the weight enough for him to blink his eyes slowly open. But he couldn't speak. His mind still felt spacey. He barely felt Louis' lips on his temple and the words he spoke when he said they should get out. 

Harry stayed put, feeling paralyzed as the warmth of Louis' body left him to drain the tub. This feeling didn't come often during these moments, but when they did, Louis was patient. He calmed Harry back into a state of mind that was clear enough for him to be able to stumble out of the bath and into his boyfriend's arms, and he felt a soft towel dry his body. A shiver ran down his spine and Louis wrapped his arms around Harry and gently kissed over his face.

"Love . . . you," Harry breathed tiredly out, eyelids drooping. 

Louis smiled beautifully and it made Harry's whole body fill with warmth. He was helped back to the room and into bed, cozily tucked underneath the sheets. 

Harry drifted but was awake enough to know that Louis had gone to clean the bathroom and then take a quick shower himself before climbing into bed (after locking the door, because no one should burst in on this in morning) and wrapping an arm around Harry. 

Harry needed to figure out new ways of telling Louis he loved him, because the word was beginning to not match the immensity of how he felt. Every moment he spent with Louis the feeling of love and captivation grew and grew. One day Harry is going to explode from the admiration that was growing for his boyfriend. Just not right now. Right now he'd rather sleep in Louis' arms.


	50. ✿40✿

The store is officially open. Harry couldn't believe it when it was finished and felt like he was living in a dream when he walked through his very own flower shop. He knew he wanted the name of the store to be simple, and Louis has been teasing him about being cocky for naming it this, but the name of it is: Harry's Flowers. It's basic, he knows, but it looks good on the sign.

The first costumer, surprisingly, was his Grandmother. Harry had gasped when he saw her and hugged her tightly after she insisted on being his first costumer. After that she went out and handed flyers to the locals, something Harry didn't know about until Louis got home with a flyer in his hand. 

"Oh, Gran..." He had said, but couldn't help but laugh. What a persistent woman.

The first few days were slow. Not many people came in. But then word got out to his regulars he previously had at the stand that he opened his own store, and in came flooding more people. 

"I messed up with my girlfriend again," this guy sighed out. "Any suggestions?"

Harry helped him out and gave him a freshly plucked anemone just to be nice. 

Harry had to hire a few workers to help maintain things, which Louis seemed to enjoy a lot. Louis liked being stern when interviewing people and being intimidating. In the end, he hired two people: a girl with blue hair and a sixteen year old boy.

The lady with blue hair, Aliyah, is a very kind nineteen year old that dreams on being a singer. She said she needed a positive job and was happy to do anything to help.

The boy's name is Gabriel, but Harry calls him Gabe. He said he always liked flowers and would like some extra cash. Harry just honestly thought he was a cutie and would probably bring in some girls. Maybe not. But Gabe's a good worker and likes to sweet-talk people into buying flowers. 

"Boss man!" Gabe said when Harry walked in after grabbing some lunch.

"Gabriel!" Harry happily said back. 

"Have a good lunch?" Gabe asks.

Harry nodded and walked over to check on some flowers he put out earlier in the morning. "Yes. Louis says hi. How was your lunch?"

"Had the usual," Gabe sighed out. His usual was the chicken salad sandwich his Mum made him. 

"Hey, Mister Styles?" 

Harry crinkled his nose and turned to Aliyah. "Call me Harry," he said with a smile. "What's up?"

She smiled and nodded. "Right. Harry. And our supply of vases haven't come in yet. They were supposed to arrive this morning."

"Oh, right," Harry said with a frown. "I think I have the number on the desk somewhere. I'll give them a call." He smiled widely after that. Only because he's living out his dream. "Thanks for reminding me!"

"Sure thing, Mister... Harry," Aliyah quickly corrected.

Harry nodded and went to the back room where his desk was to give them a call. 

The day went by rather quickly, with polite conversation with his employees to keep things from getting boring, and then six o'clock soon rolled around, the time Harry thought would be a good time to close up. It left Gabe with some time to get home and eat with his family, and Aliyah time to study at the University she's attending. And enough time for Harry to put things away and rush upstairs to make dinner. 

It's a routine he's grown to love, really. And he wouldn't want to have it any other way now. His life is better than he ever hoped it would be. He has a beautiful boyfriend, his dream job, wonderful friends. It's just perfect. He wishes he could share with his Mum, though. She would be so proud of him.

During scrambling around to make dinner, Harry received a call from Niall. He said he was stopping by with Liam because he missed the cooking. He also said that they haven't had a proper meal since Harry left since they both apparently can't cook. He was quick with adjusting to this new information, throwing in more chicken and potatoes to roast. 

Harry sighed and sat down in a chair after rushing to cook more food, exhaling loudly and relaxing back into the wooden chair as comfortably as he could. Then he heard a knock at the door before two hungry boys came sniffing in the kitchen. Harry now regrets giving them a key to the house.

"Is it ready?" Niall asked, opening a pot on the stove and taking a step back when steam rolled out. "Jesus," he muttered.

"Not quite," Harry groaned and stood to give them both hugs. "Hi, by the way."

Liam smiled happily and hugged Harry tightly. "We've missed you!" 

"How's the shop goin'?" Niall asked as he headed for the fridge. 

Harry rolled his eyes at him. "It's going good! Doing better than I thought, honestly. I'm loving it." Harry pushed his chair in and checked the time on his watch. "Louis should be home soon."

"What's for dinner?" Niall started chewing on a carrot he got from the fridge and Harry nearly had a heart attack.

"Niall, that's not a Cheeto, y'know," he said.

Niall furrowed an eyebrow and then widened his eyes, but then sadness rushed through him and he hunched over. Harry had never seen so many emotions hit someone so quickly. 

"Liam said I should eat healthier or I'll die of a heart attack. He did a quiz online and it said I'll die at thirty-seven at this rate," Niall said with a frown. He took another bite from the carrot and looked like it physically hurt him to do so.

"Oh, bullocks!" Harry shouted out with a laugh. Then he looked at Liam, who gave him a stern look and shook his head, trying to shush him. "I mean... Yeah, those online quizzes can be accurate...?"

Niall nodded and then gagged when he took another bite from his carrot.

Harry was about to glare at Liam for lying to Niall (even if it was for his benefit), but then Louis walked in, and Harry can't help but be anything but happy around Louis. 

"We've got company!" Louis said, shocked, after giving Harry a kiss on the cheek. 

"Surprise," Niall sadly said out.

"Liam, did you break him?" Louis asked as he started to take his coat off. Harry helped him and then put it up.

They all started making up for lost time while Harry set the table and put all of the food together as nicely as he could. It did smell great, Harry has to admit. He's not good at much, but at least he can cook. Silence fell over the table when the food was placed; Harry hoped it was because it smelled so good. And then Harry grabbed all of their plates and gave them their roasted chicken and potatoes.

"Real food!" Niall happily shouted.

Liam nudged him and then stuck a fork in a potato. "We've been living off of frozen pizza's."

"I can write out some simple recipe's for you guys to cook, then."

Liam and Niall looked at each other as if they were given the hardest job to do.

"Yeah, mate," Liam said in an awkward, high-pitched voice.

Louis cleared his throat. "So! So," he repeated. "I've got some news, mhm." Harry put his fork down. "I had given a tatt on this guy in, like, his mid-forties? Yeah. That age. And, well... Turns out he's quite the tattoo artist with quite the tattoo joint. Apparently celebrities get their shi..." He looked at Harry and cleared his throat. "...Stuff done there. He wanted me to come in for an interview. He said he's heard good things about me. Like... What? How? When? But yeah. It's here in London, so it's not like it's five billion miles away, which is great. He said the pay was more than I could imagine. The interview's tomorrow."

"Lou!" Harry shouted, immediately standing up to hug Louis' neck. "Oh my gosh! My baby is so amazing!"

Louis laughed shyly and patted Harry's hand. "Not a sure thing. It's just an interview."

"But you're gonna get the job because you're amazing."

Louis rolled his eyes when Harry sat back down, and Liam and Niall both congratulated him. Harry enjoyed his meal with adoring gazes to his boyfriend, because Louis is so talented and beautiful. Louis has to get the job; he's amazing at what he does. And maybe Harry wants to meet a few celebrities, but that's besides the point.

The rest of the evening was spent with wine (that Harry didn't drink) and funny conversations. It was wonderful and it made him realize how much he missed his friends. He'd been so hung up with work and the new business that he hasn't really focused on anything else, and to have this fresh breath of air by doing something as simple as having conversations with friends, is exactly what he needed. 

Especially when that one day is coming up. Maybe that's why he's thrown himself into work and the house stuff. And Louis when he's home. Distractions are nice. And it's why he can't call Gemma back right now, even though she's called him everyday for the past week after Mother's Day. But it's okay. He's okay.


	51. 40½

Harry's been off and Louis can't understand why. He figured it was the Mother's Day thing, but it's been a week since that was. Usually Harry gets back in his happy routine by now. When Louis asks about it, Harry just puts on this fake smile and says he's okay. But Louis knows better; he knows Harry. 

Harry thinks that if he tells himself that he's okay, that he eventually will be. And maybe so, but in these moments, he's not. Louis just wants to talk about it and understand why. Is it something he's done? He's been taking on a lot of work recently, but is able to ease up a little because of Harry's business going so well. 

So today he's off work earlier than Harry. He walks inside the flower shop and Harry smiles out of surprise and kisses him on the cheek. Gabe raises his eyebrows suggestively and winks, which makes Louis laugh. Just a little.

"Gonna make you dinner," Louis tells him.

Harry scrunches his nose up. "Are you?"

"Don't have to seem so disgusted by it!" He loudly says with a laugh.

"Aw, no. Sorry, sorry. Go on. I'll be another hour, though."

"That's all right," Louis says. He leans up to kiss Harry's forehead (he can't help that Harry's a giant) and makes his way up the stairs and to their home. 

The house is clean and smells of cinnamon. Has to be those things Harry insists on plugging into the walls so that he doesn't need to use candles. Though Harry prefers candles, he says he's always afraid of burning down the house with them. Poor guy. He is rather unlucky, so Louis could see that happening.

He doesn't really know what to cook. He can grill stuff. He's good at meats (there's a good joke in there somewhere). He finds himself staring at hamburger meat and wonders what he could make besides hamburgers, when he hears his phone go off. He sighs and hopes it's someone that could help him out.

The ringing phone is coming from the bedroom, and it's then that he realizes it's not his phone ringing. He finds Harry's phone on the nightstand beside the bed and sees it's Gemma calling. He's about to answer when the ringing stops, and he's left staring at the missed text messages and voicemails Harry's received. He immediately thinks something bad has happened to Gemma and that she needs Harry, so Louis calls her back and makes his way out of the room to get Harry.

"Harry, thank God!" Gemma says. 

"It's Louis, but I'm getting Harry. What's wrong? You okay?" He asks while opening the door to the stairs that will lead him to Harry.

"I need Harry. Or he needs me. Do you know what tomorrow is? He needs someone. He needs you. Okay? All right?"

Gemma sounds panicked and it's making Louis panic. He stops at the top of the stairs and can feel his heart speeding up. "What do you mean? What's tomorrow?"

"It's been seven years tomorrow. Seven years since Mum died."

Louis suddenly feels guilty and frowns. If Harry wanted to tell him, wouldn't he have? But Louis should have known this, right? They're usually so open about this stuff. Louis asks about Harry's mother all the time, and he's finally at a point where it doesn't pain him to talk about her. Maybe it was just too painful to tell Louis. Maybe. 

"I'm so...sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she sighs out, seeming relieved that she finally got whatever it was off her chest. "Harry was closest to her, though. He always takes this day hard. Please watch him for me."

"All right, yeah. Will do. Bye, Gem."

Louis hangs up and runs his fingers through his hair stressfully. This is why Harry's been to upset recently. He clears his throat and goes downstairs anyway, because Gemma told him something Harry didn't want to tell Louis. He isn't going to pretend it didn't happen. He finds Harry putting in fresh flowers and tickles his back to get his attention. 

He laughs cutely and turns, and Louis just awkwardly hands him the phone. "Gemma called you. I answered, if that's okay?" Harry nods slowly and the smile is quickly wiped from his face. He grabs his phone and puts it in his back pocket. "Her wedding's next month. We should talk about those plans and stuff," Louis nudges Harry and grabs his hand to kiss it. He's going to talk about this later. Not when he's at work, so he keeps his mouth shut and gives Harry a big smile, tells him he loves him, and says he won't burn the kitchen down as he makes his way back upstairs. 

He does end up making hamburgers because he's not creative food-wise, and waits for Harry to finish up work. It seems as though hours pass by before he hears Harry's slow footsteps leading up to their home. Slowly Harry walks in, and slowly he takes a seat at the kitchen table. They're both silent for a few minutes, and Louis just doesn't know what to say. They should eat before he brings it up.

"You talked to Gemma?" Harry quietly asks.

Louis closes his eyes and inhaled deeply; he turns around and nods. "Yeah, I did."

"Did she happen to..." Harry trails off, his eyes glued to his hands. Harry inhales deeply, and when he exhales, it's a shaky breath that Louis knows is accompanied with tears.

"She did," Louis whispered back. "But hey." He rushes to Harry's side and gets on his knees in front of him, taking his hands in his own and trying to get Harry to look at him. "Hey, hey. You could've told me, Harry. I wanna be here for you during these things."

Harry's face scrunched up and more tears flowed from his eyes. Louis' hands went to his face to wipe at the tears, still trying to get Harry to look at him. 

"I know. But it's so...so hard. I thought if I ignored it, it would be better. I... My chest." He patted over his heart. "It hurts. It just. It feels like it's giving out on me, I can't--breathe like this!" Harry shouted so desperately, so sadly. 

Louis clung to him. He wrapped his arms around his lower half, still on his knees, and pressed his head against Harry's heart. He didn't know what to do. He hoped that the longer he held Harry like this, then somehow the pain would travel into Louis so that Harry wouldn't have to feel it anymore. 

"I just want to see her one more time. I want to talk to her, ask her what she thinks of where I am today. I can barely remember what she felt like when I hugged her. I forgot what she smelled like," Harry quickly sputtered out, his hands gripping Louis' shirt. "I want her to be proud of me."

"Oh, baby, she would be. Everything you've accomplished, everything you are... You're so kind and your heart is so big. You've gone after your dream and you've succeeded in it. She'd be more than proud of you, Harry. I'm more than proud of you. You're so caring, but so strong now, and you've just... you've changed me for the better. Did you know that? I was such a jerk when I met you. And then I got to know you, and now look at me. Now I know that not everyone out there is just a lost cause, and that the world can be good. You're so good, Harry. Your mother would be so proud because of the goodness you have."

"When she was dying," Harry said, pausing to swallow, "She said that I shouldn't be angry for what happened to her. That things like cancer happen to people for a reason, and that God just wanted her sooner. I was mad, Lou. So mad at everything and everyone that I almost never showed up that day because I was mad at her for letting it take her down. And then she...she died. She died and I was angry. I never told her how--how much I loved her and how thankful I was to have her as a mother because I was angry!" Harry shook his head, his lower lip shaking as he turned away from Louis.

"I never wanted to be like that again. I was a stupid sixteen-year-old, and it had to take that to see that being angry would only cause more pain. I turned into a person you wouldn't recognize when she had cancer, Lou. I was so disrespectful because I blamed her." He took in a few breaths and tried to calm himself down. He sniffled and wiped his nose. "I just didn't want anger to make my life worse."

"Harry..." Louis started, brows drawn in as he stared at his broken boyfriend. "I understand. Being angry, taking on so much like that. It's awful how life does this to us. But you just... you didn't let it beat you. You looked at your life and realized that the best thing is to be positive, even when you don't want to be. I turned bitter after my sister passed and my ex trampled on what good I had left. Then you--god dammit--you just came in with your flowers and made me the happiest I've been in a long time," Louis sighed deeply and looked away. Anything he could say would never be enough, and he knows it personally. 

"Let's go visit your Mum tomorrow. Get some nice flowers picked out. I'll take some to Lottie, too. We can do this together. Grieve together."

Harry silently cried and nodded his head repeatedly. "Okay. All right." He wiped his eyes. "Why did you guys choose to..." Harry stopped and shook his head, backing out on what he was going to say.

"She'd always wanted to visit London but we never could. So they buried her here instead," Louis sternly said, knowing that if he talked more about it, then he couldn't be strong for Harry. He stood and lifted Harry's face up, stared at his bright green eyes due to the redness the tears brought. "I love you. You'll never have to go through today alone now."

"Ed wrote me a song," Harry blurted. "On Mother's Day, he sent me a song. Called Supermarket Flowers. I didn't show you because I didn't want to talk about it. But it's...it's really good. We can listen to it later."

Louis nodded and and scratched at Harry's scalp, because it always calmed Harry when he did that. "Sounds like a plan. But we should eat first, okay? May have burnt them a little, not gonna lie."

Harry laughed and wiped his nose against his shirt. "Not surprised, honestly."

+++

Louis promised himself to be strong for Harry and to not cry when visiting his sisters grave. He rarely visited it anyway, and when he did it always ended in tears. But this day. This day is for Harry. He needs this day to miss what he's lost. Liam and Niall showed up for support; Louis didn't even need to ring them, they just turned up and hugged Harry and followed them down. Harry kept listening to the song Ed wrote, and Christ, it was hard fighting off the tears when he heard those lyrics. 

When they reached the grave, Harry inhaled shakily and gripped the flowers he held, staring at the stone that had his mother's name written on it. Louis knew that Harry, when he came here, liked to talk to her, so he stood back a little and let Harry drop to his knees to place the flowers down. 

"Hey," Harry quietly said. "It's been a while..."

Louis decided not to listen on what he was going to say and stood beside Liam and Niall, who were warming their hands in their pockets. "He likes to eat pie on this day," Liam said to Louis.

"From a baker his mum liked to go to. We already ordered his favorites in, so we can just head back to the old flat later," Niall said.

Louis nodded and felt bad he was only just now figuring this stuff out. He hasn't known Harry as long as they have, so it's okay, but he still wishes he would've known Harry likes to eat pie from the baker his mum liked to go to on this day. And that this day was the day she passed.

He blinked repeatedly and excused himself, eyes on Harry as he stared at the gravestone, mouth moving as he talked. Louis walked to his sisters grave and felt his heart beat harder in his chest when he approached, felt the lump in his throat rise, which he really hated. He hated this feeling.

He never really talked to Lottie's grave like Harry does with his mother's. He always just stared and thought about how this could've easily been avoided and then leaves, more messed up than how he was before coming.

"Charlotte," he quietly says, staring at the flower in his hand. He drops it on the ground and rubs his hand over his face. "I'm so sorry," he gasps out, tears flooding down his face. "I'm so sorry we snuck out that night. I should've been responsible. I should've said no." He moved to sit on the ground and wiped his face. "I should be disapproving of all your boyfriends and yelling at you when you decide to dye your hair to be rebellious right now, not talking to your..." He stops himself and breathes in deeply.

"I just love you. I wish we could've had longer time together. I wish you could've met Harry. You'd love him. He's everything I've ever wanted." Louis scratched his nose and looked over his shoulder to see that Harry was still talking to his mum's grave, and didn't realize Louis was gone. 

Louis felt around in his jeans and pulled out what he was searching for, keeping it close to himself as he flipped open the box. "Gonna ask him to be mine forever, you know." Louis stared down at the ring and took a deep breath. It was a silver band with a touch of gold, but specially made with intricate flowers detailed into it. "He really loves flowers," he whispered.

He shoved it back into his pocket and wiped his face, standing quickly and wiping the dirt off from his jeans. He needed to calm himself before returning to Harry. He shouldn't be over here for too long, not when he was needed. 

"I've got to go... I miss you." And then he turned and made his way back to Harry, the box securely in his back pocket, and his hands stuff in the front pockets. He sighed again, feeling lighter than he has in such a long time. Ever time he thought about his sister he felt so weighed down and upset, but talking like that just made it feel so much better. 

When he reached Harry, he placed his hands on his shoulders and rubbed his thumbs lightly on his shoulder blades, just to let Harry know that he was here and that he wasn't alone during this.


	52. ❁41❁

After that day, Harry felt lighter. It felt good to bring Louis and to be surrounded by his friends. He had his time to grieve; it's something he hasn't really done in a while. Louis asks about her all the time, asks about Harry's childhood and he doesn't feel like a ton of bricks is setting on top of his heart when he talks about her now. That day will never be any easier, but the other days are so much better now.

Louis had the interview yesterday and said he was too nervous to do anything right, but Harry comforted him and told him how talented he was and then they made out, so Louis seemed good at the end of the day. But now they're packing for Gemma's wedding. It's next week, but they're flying down since Harry's gonna be a bridesmaid (bridesboy?), and he needs to help out with some wedding shower stuff.

Nothing can put him in a better mood than a wedding--his sisters wedding, at that. It's all he's been wanting to talk about with Louis. He spends his days (when not working) on Pinterest to try and think of cute stuff to do, then sends to the bridal groupchat he's in. He added Louis in it, but he left when they started talking about what type of sex toy's to get for the lingerie party.

"Hey," Harry said to Louis when they were both situated in bed.

"Hi."

"Remember the last time we were at Gem's?" Harry asks, the biggest smile on his face as he props his arm up and rests his cheek against his hand to stare at Louis.

Louis blinks over at Harry from the TV, a faint smile on his lips. "I dunno. What happened?"

Harry rolled his eyes and moved closer to Louis, sneaking a leg in between Louis', and then wrapping an arm around his waist. "You flew all the way to Los Angeles," Harry started as he moved his head to Louis' chest. "All for me. 'Cause you liked me so much. You flew all the way down just to tell me your feelings for me." Harry sighed lovingly. That was, by far, the most romantic and caring thing anyone has ever done for him. "You're such a sap, I love it."

Louis started to brush his fingertips up and down Harry's arm, and groaned when Harry called him a sap. "Am not."

"Oh, you totally are. You're such a romantic!" Harry argued. Louis groaned again. "I'm so ready for the wedding. I love wedding's. They're so lovely and cute."

"You gonna wear a dress?" Louis jokingly asks.

Harry pinched Louis' side. "I wish I could get away with that, but no. She said she didn't care what we all wore, and to just follow the color theme to match a little. I think she picked out the shirt I'm gonna wear. She sent me a picture and it's floral, so I'm happy."

"I've never really been to a wedding," Louis muttered.

Harry gasped and sat up to stare at Louis. "Never?"

Louis just shook his head and casually put his arm behind his head.

"Well. There's usually dancing. You're gonna dance with me," Harry demanded.

"I know how weddings go, H. And I'll dance with you. I'm a great dancer," Louis confidently spoke.

"Bet I'm better."

"Bet you are," Louis grinned.

Harry, laying back down, scratched his nose and thought of something. He's thought about it before, but he and Louis haven't ever talked about it. 

"What do you think of marriage?" Harry quietly asks, turning his face onto the pillow.

"I like it," Louis simply replies.

Harry tilts his head a little so that he can stare at him through one eye. "What do you think about getting married?" 

Louis turns over to face Harry; Harry sticks his face right back into the pillow.

"Yes, Harry, I wanna get married someday. There's this guy I'm talking to on the side, and he seems like the perfect candidate for marriage."

Harry turns over at that to nudge Louis. "Shut up! What about me?"

"What about you?" Louis questions, dipping down to bump his nose against Harry's.

"Would you marry me?"

"Are you proposing?" Louis asks, pulling back and putting a hand over his chest. "Oh my God! This is..." He fans over his face and wipes away fake tears. "So unexpected."

"Stooooop," Harry drags out, pouring. "Stop goofing around."

Louis sighed and leans over Harry again. He kisses his forehead to get Harry to smile, and it works. "Of course I'd marry you, Harry," he says, and then dips down near his ear. "Because it rhymes."

Harry giggled and shoved at Louis' chest, and then they kissed for a while. Harry was a sucker for rhymes, honestly. Louis was too cute, and he was willing to marry him. How incredible! Now Harry wanted to plan a wedding. His own wedding.

+++

"Passports?" Harry frantically asked, searching the bags. Louis walked in and waved them around. "Okay," Harry said with a nod. "That's everything."

"Damn right. Now let's go to Los Angeles."

Harry nodded again, still scared that he'll leave something. Louis had to drag him out of the house, locking up behind them. Harry spent a minute in his shop to say goodbye to his flowers. "Gabe and Aliyah will take care of you all," he spoke to them.

"Cab's been waiting, Harry!" Louis shouted.

Harry sighed and hurried outside and placed his bags in the trunk of the cab. 

He couldn't wait for the wedding. He loved celebrating love in all sorts of ways, and marriage, of course, is the one he finds most romantic. There's just something about committing yourself to the person you've fallen in love with and vowing to be theirs. 

As Harry gets into the cab and watches his home fade away, he can't help but wonder if he's the type of guy that would get married. He'd always dreamed about it, yes, but he never thought he'd find someone to marry. He remembers when he had come to terms with liking boys, and immediately thought that no church would ever allow it. And then he found out it wasn't even legal; who he was and who he loved wasn't accepted. Marriage wasn't something he could have because he liked the same gender. But then, years later, it was legalized and then it was put on the table again.

He looked over at Louis, who was watching the street and held Harry's hand. He looked at the guy driving through the mirror, wondering if he ever cared about the two boys holding hands in the back seat. But then Louis rubbed his thumb over Harry's knuckle and those thoughts left, because he's in love and shouldn't care what other people would think. He never really has before, honestly. The only negativity he's received about being gay is the way his father talked to him about it like it was some disgusting illness. But that's in the past. He's with Louis, who's currently staring at Harry with his blueblue eyes and he can't help but wonder how on earth he got so lucky. 

+

"Window seat. Dibs," Harry said to Louis as he shoved him aside to get the seat. He grinned when Louis walked over to him with an annoyed look, the carry-on bag that was knocked out of his hands by Harry now secured above them.

"I was gonna let you have it anyway," he muttered, annoyed.

Louis sat down beside Harry and buckled himself up. Harry was bouncing slightly in his seat, because he liked the way the clouds looked last time he was up in the air. Not the take-off or landing, but the steady flying. He didn't even notice when Louis told him to buckle up, and furrowed his brows when Louis reached across to buckle him in. 

"Sweet boy, you are!" 

Harry, now buckled, looked up to the elderly woman who was making her way to the empty seat beside Louis. He smiled.

"He is."

She sat down and Louis looked at her and sighed. He didn't seem so happy about sitting next to her. Harry couldn't figure out why.

"What's the story between you two?" She asked once she was settled.

She had short, white hair with tight curls and glasses with large frames sitting on her nose. Her face and hands were wrinkly and her eyes were a pretty gray. She looked seventy, at most.

"We met in a store looking for medicine. Then we started working near each other and he fell for my good looks," Harry said, still smiling widely.

She nodded and stared at them both, reaching out to pat Louis' hand. "Oh, how lovely! What's meeting you at the end of this plane?"

"My sister," Harry said, finding it easy to talk with her. Louis finally wasn't so tense and let them talk, sitting back so they wouldn't have to lean over so far. "She's getting married."

"That's just wonderful," she happily sighed out. "I remember my wedding day. Went down the aisle, had a beautiful dress on... And then Denise stood up and proclaimed her love for me. A wild day that was."

Louis snorted and then rubbed his nose to hide his smile. "That's amazing. Poor guy, though," Louis said, finally joining in on the conversation. 

"Oh, Tom was fine! He was relieved, if anything. We were too young to get married. I was only seventeen."

"Wow," Harry said, brows raised. "Did you and Denise ever tie the knot?"

She laughed and waved a hand. "When you've been together for as long as we have it begins to not make a difference whether you're married or not. But marriage is a beautiful thing."

Harry nodded in agreement and stared at Louis lovingly. "It sure is."

When the plane started off, Harry held Louis' hand tightly and squinted his eyes closed. It didn't seem like it took as long to get above the clouds like it did the other times he's flown, and maybe it's because the company he's got. The elderly woman's name is Janet and she and Harry talked a lot about how people treated her long ago for who she loved and how she's glad the world is changing. She's a very kind lady and it made Harry miss his grandmother.

The flight, now hours in, is peaceful and quiet. Mostly everyone (including Janet) is asleep. Harry's head was on Louis' shoulder and they were watching a movie to help pass time since they weren't very tired.

"I love you," Harry quietly told him. 

Louis made a noise as if saying: "that was random," but then he said, "Love you too. You okay?"

Harry nodded. "Just love you."

"Wow. You're in love? What a loser," Louis said.

"Yeah, I know. The guy I'm with really thinks he's not my sugar daddy, but he totally is," Harry quietly said while trying to keep a straight face.

"I'm only two years older than you!" Louis whisper-shouted.

"Do you know how much that would be in dog years?"

Louis sighed and Harry felt him shake his head. "Weirdo."

Harry tilted his head up and smiled, wanting Louis to look at him, so he rubbed his nose against Louis' jaw. When Louis looked at Harry, still smiling with his head on his shoulder, Harry decided to place a kiss on his lips because Harry loves kissing Louis (obviously). "You're in love with the weirdo."

"Mm," Louis hummed out, eyes opening from having them closed from the kiss. "Awfully true."

+

"GEMMA," Harry shouted as he ran inside the ridiculously huge house. He found her in the kitchen making a cake. "YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL BRIDE," Harry kept shouting, his hands now clung around her in a tight embrace.

"STOP SHOUTING," she yelled back, turning around to huge him properly. "I'm not a bride yet."

"But soon you will be. Do you need help with something? Anything?" Harry asked, looking over her and to the cake. "I can ice that for you. You know I have great icing skills."

"Harry, aren't you tired?" Gemma asked, shoving him away because he was hovering too much. 

Harry hopped on the nearest counter and picked up an apple, peering over her to see if Louis had walked in, and then shaking his head happily. "We did it in the bathroom before landing. You'd think I'd be exhausted."

Gemma covered her ears. "La-la-la-la!" She yelled out, exiting the kitchen.

"Hey!" Harry huffed, hoping off the counter and walking after her. He entered the living room and saw that she was with Josh, who was talking to Louis. "Hi," he smiled at him.

Louis looked at Harry, who looked exhausted. "Thanks for helping with the luggage."

"Sorry," Harry whispered.

"They did it on the plane," Harry heard Gemma say to Josh.

"Hey!" Harry said to him. His mind wasn't exactly working properly. He'd gone too many hours without sleep. 

Louis must have realized this, because although Harry was stupidly hyper, he grabbed his arm and told him to get upstairs immediately and sleep. Harry huffed and frowned and nearly threw a fit, but Louis dug his nails into Harry's arm to prevent him from making a scene, and Harry noticed he was kind of slipping into that "baby" thing he does when he's exhausted himself. He would hate for Gem and Josh to see that. 

He fell onto the bed upon seeing it and let Louis take his boots and jeans off. Then he wrapped himself in the blankets and shut his eyes. 

"Where..." Harry started saying, but couldn't find words as he reached out next to him, trying to feel for Louis. "You..."

The bed dipped and his hand was met with another, and he suddenly felt very whole and relaxed. So sleeping wasn't too hard of a thing to do.

+

Harry, in his jeans and silky pink shirt, walked in with Gemma at the place the Bridal Shower was being held. He had yet to meet her other bridesmaids in person, but they were lovely texters.

"Harry!" Someone said, in a pretty dress, and welcomed him with a hug. 

"Mary!" He shouted back. And then the other bridesmaids saw him and surrounded him, and he felt really happy and he loved nice people so much.

"So much taller than I thought," Angel said.

The other girls, Charlie and Leigh, also complimented Harry on his hair and shirt and he was just a giggling mess. These girls were always funny and sweet in the group chat, so meeting them in person was something he was very excited for.

For a moment he forgot Louis was trailing awkwardly behind them. Louis wasn't ever too good at meeting people (even if he did talk to them a little before he left the group chat) and always disliked everyone until they proved to be kind or worthy of his own kindness. 

"Lou!" Harry called him over, giggling when everyone gasped in happiness. 

"Louis!" Charlie said. "Sorry our dildo's disturbed you."

Loud crinkled his nose and stood beside Harry. "That's the only shower I won't be participating in."

"But the lingerie shower is the best one!" Mary said, and Harry couldn't help but nod.

"Sorry to disappoint," he said with a little smile, and Harry just wrapped his arms around him and clung to him because he felt affectionate. 

A lot of aw's sounded out and Harry flushed.

"I'm ready to open up gifts," Gemma quietly said to her bridesmaids. And bridesman. "Man of honor," she said to Harry, "Gather everyone."

Harry nodded and turned to the people he didn't really know, and asked if they would kindly take their seats so that the shower will begin.

The shower was quite long and many gifts were opened. Louis looked a little bored at it all, and maybe annoyed. Only because he couldn't sit beside Harry because the bridal party sat with the bride, and Louis was sitting with some old lady that was too keen on talking about grandchildren and rashes. He texted Harry in the middle of it and asked if he could leave, but Harry glared at him in response and Louis threw his head back and sighed. But over all, it was very lovely and wonderful because he loved watching his sister laugh and look so happy. 

Afterwards he helped clean and load everything up, another thing Louis nearly complained about. But he was a good sport and swept the floors. 

"Champagne!" Gemma yelled out, handing out glasses to Harry, Louis, and the rest of the girls. "Thank you so much for being by my side and for all the lovely gifts," she said to them. "Here's to finally gettin' bloody married this weekend!" 

They all raised their glasses and then downed the champagne. Harry licked his lips after and asked Louis if he was going to drink his (he just loves champagne, okay?). Louis took a little sip and then handed the glass to Harry, who drank it happily.

Harry said good-bye to the girls as they headed to their car to go back to Gemma's house. He was just too excited for the wedding. He's ready to see the lovely place, first of all. And he loves that it's one of those free-spirit type weddings, and that Gemma wants it earthy and pretty. And he loves that he doesn't have to wear an expensive tux. He's not the tux kind of guy.

When they get home, the first thing Harry and Louis do is change into something more comfortable. Harry is known to dress comfortably anyway, but throwing on some sweats and a simple shirt doesn't hurt anyone. He hadn't noticed that Louis threw on one of Harry's sweaters (Harry didn't pack sweaters. He's in California. In June.) until he was sitting beside him on the couch. His heart melted. Louis packed one of his sweaters to wear. 

"Nice sweater," Harry told him, cuddling up to Louis.

"Bit big," Louis shrugged as he put his arm around Harry.

"Maybe 'cause it's mine."

Gemma walked in with wine and glasses and set it on the coffee table. Josh played the movie he had picked once they got home and Harry helped himself with a glass, because what the heck, it's her wedding week and he's going to drink a little. And he likes wine. 

Louis watched Harry pour it in, and then grabbed it from him when he leaned back to take a sip, and then handed it back. Harry held it closely to him as he pressed himself back into Louis, taking a few sips here and there before filling it up some more.

"All right?" Gemma asked.

Harry nodded and held his glass up. "Just swell."

After another few minutes into the movie, Harry realized he wasn't paying attention at all. 

"Lou," he whispered. "What's goin' on?"

"It's The Hobbit, H. You've seen this already," Louis told him.

He poured himself another glass and sat back. "Oh."

"Had enough, yet?" Louis asked.

"I rarely drink, hush," Harry responded, downing his drink just to annoy Louis and moving on to another. He was feeling it, all right. It didn't take much for Harry, and he's not even giving the alcohol enough time to really settle into his system. He keeps drinking, which makes him feel lighter and he giggles too loudly.

He takes large sips from the drink until it was gone, and goes to pour another drink, but Louis takes the glass from him and puts it on the table. He pulled Harry back down on the couch and holds him close so that he's not tempted, and Harry's huffing and pouting and whining. "Louuuuuu."

"Harry," Louis quietly says with an edge to his voice. "Watch the movie."

Harry buried his face in Louis' neck and sniffled, his nose rubbing against Louis' skin, and then silently cries. He's still very aware of the couple on the other sofa. He doesn't want to draw too much attention. 

Louis sighed and ran his hand through Harry's hair. "Don't cry. You like this movie, H, just watch it."

He didn't know why he was crying, honestly. He just wanted to drink a little like adults do, but Louis won't let him. He knows how he gets when he's drunk, though, and maybe that's why Louis stopped him. So he inhaled and wiped his face, frowning, and then stood up. 

"M'tired. Goodnight," he said, waving as Gemma and Josh said it back, and then stumbles his way upstairs and to the bedroom. "So hot," he sadly spoke to himself as he took off his sweatpants. He started crying again for who knows why. He sat on the bed and pulled the collar of his shirt up to his face to rub the tears away.

He just wants Louis now. He just wants to cling himself to Louis and for Louis to rub his hair and sing to him like he's done before. He loves Louis' voice and he rarely gets to listen to it. He climbed back into the pillows and shoved his face into one to cry into, singing Hey Jude to himself because he wants Louis to sing that to him again. 

"Nah, nah, nah, nah," he sobbed out. "Nah, nah, nah, nah. Heeey, Jude," he sang to himself, hating himself for crying at something so stupid. He blames the alcohol. 

He felt his phone vibrate on the nightstand and sits up to get it. It's just the stupid thing telling Harry that his storage is nearly full, but Harry gets the idea to text Liam and Niall in their group chat. The one without Louis in it. Because he wanted to talk to someone. 

Harry: get up its urgent

Niall :-D: what u effin want 

Liam!!: I'm already up, it's 7 am

Harry: miss louie ):

He took a picture of himself frowning. It was blurry but he sent it anyway.

Liam!!: what the bloody hell you textin us for then??

Harry: i jsut want him 2 sing to me

Niall :-D: u drunk mate ?

Bear❤: then ask me ?

Harry gasped. He scratched his eyes and tried to click at the top of the screen, where it listed who was all in the group chat, and shook his head for making this mistake again upon seeing that he actually did send this to the wrong chat.

Liam!!: louis sings to you lol

Harry: u knoq wat liam shut uo yes loui sings to me but he hasnr ina whule an im sad an ur bein real mean cuz he has a beuatifuk voicr an ur mad cuz yoi kno how big his dikk is an ur jealus so leve me alone

Then he remembered something. 

Harry: lou can u com sing to me pls i luv u

The door opened nearly immediately to the room he was in, and in came Louis with a big smile on his face. He joined Harry on the bed and Harry sprawled himself on top of him and grabbed his hand to place in his hair.

"Your texting skills are impeccable."

Harry grumbled something incoherently and then hummed when Louis started to sing, his voice soft and pretty as it eased him into a deep slumber.


	53. ✿42✿

Harry woke up with a headache and wondered why the hell he thought it was a good idea to drink so much. He's glad Louis stopped him when he did last night, but upset with himself that he didn't quit sooner. He turned his head on the pillow and saw that a glass of water and some pain reliever was set out for him, so he sat up (with struggle) and swallowed down the pills with the water. 

He stood up and stretched, a yawn following seconds after as he made his way to the bathroom after putting on some sweatpants. He heard the shower running and knew it was Louis, so he just walked in sleepily and wiped away the fog on the mirror.

"Oi, Harry, way to give me a scare!" Louis shouted, his head poking out of the curtain.

"Sorry," he said, yawning again. He splattered some water on his face to wake himself up a little and then started to brush his teeth. "Do you think we should wait longer? On giving Gem her gift?" Harry asked, toothbrush still in his mouth.

"No, you can give it to her," Louis replied. "Should've just given it to her at the Shower, but whatever, I know you wanted it to be more intimate because you're you and all."

Harry spat in the sink and rinsed out his mouth, walking over to the shower and pulling back the curtain. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Louis, mid-shampoo scrub, looked at Harry and shook his head. "Nothing! Just that you're sentimental."

Harry slowly nodded. "I am."

"Mhm. Now shut that. The cold air's getting through."

Harry did as told and then brushed his hair, trying to look presentable before he walked downstairs to see what they had planned out for the day. He knew the wedding rehearsal was tonight, so they'd probably spend the day making sure everything looked right and that it was exactly how Gemma wanted things. 

He didn't expect to enter a kitchen filled with girls in pretty dresses and nice hair as they sipped mimosas. He stopped in his tracks, looking at all the bridesmaids, and then scratched the back of his head in confusion.

"Was there an email sent that I didn't receive?" Harry asked, passing on the mimosa handed to him and going for the plain orange juice.

"No!" Charlie laughed. "Just wanted to spend the day with the bride! Prepare for the bachelorette party."

"...And that's tonight," Harry quietly said to himself, mentally punching himself in the face for forgetting. Rehearsel, and then the bachelorette party. 

"Strippers!" Mary shouted. The other girls whooped.

"No way!" Gemma shouted back with a laugh. "Not getting strippers."

"Just live a little before the big day!" 

Harry nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't mind a few strippers," he quietly said, blushing right after. He's never seen one before. 

"I bloody hell would," Louis said as he walked into the kitchen with damp hair, nosing around for something to eat.

"Louuu," Harry whined out.

"We'll talk about it later," he firmly said. He washed off an apple, smiled at the girls, and then walked out.

Harry smiled at the girls and then turned to follow Louis out, catching up with him as he was about to head upstairs and grabbing his hand. 

"Louis," Harry sighed out. "What if Gem wants that?"

Louis raised a brow and took a bite of his apple. "Didn't seem like she did." He swallowed. "Why would you wanna see a stripper anyway? Am I not fulfilling you enough?" 

Harry instantly flushed, because no, that definitely isn't the problem. He just wanted to do something exciting. But then he thought about Louis, and if Louis went to see strippers, and Harry didn't like that idea at all. So he smiled and patted Louis' damp hair. 

"You're amazing. I love you."

And then Harry skipped off back into the kitchen, speaking of how he was now against the whole idea and Gemma proudly put a fist in the air.

\+ + +

The wedding venue is the most beautiful thing Harry has ever seen. Apart from Louis, that is. But the venue... it's a sight. 

A platform was specially made for them at the beach, where they're holding the service in the evening, and it forms into a T. The bride walks down the long catwalk, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen stand on the extended parts of it. In the joining parts, right in the middle, is the prettiest arch there could ever be. It's covered in all kinds of white flowers and laced ribbon wraps around the wood on the arch, and Harry just wants to steal it and save it for the day he gets married himself.

Along the catwalk are lanterns and even more flowers. Harry has to stand back and pause for a moment because he's too overwhelmed for what's going to happen soon. His sister, walking down and having the most perfect wedding, and marrying the most wonderful man. He's just really proud of her. 

Gemma was running around with the planner of it all, rearranging last minute things before rehearsal's started. Harry didn't really have time with her before this and she's really busy right now, so he didn't know when to give her the gift. He couldn't give it to her during the Shower because it was just too personal. He wanted to give it to her in private.

"Did you see where they're gonna have the reception?" Louis asked Harry as he slowly walked towards him. Harry turned around and laughed at the face he was making. "Damn sand," he muttered, shaking his feet.

"I haven't. Not yet," he replied, looking where he came from. He saw a lot of palm trees and even more lanterns hanging from them, so he knew it was beautiful too. "This place looks amazing. I'm so excited."

"Is it giving you marriage feels?"

Harry giggled and looked down with a shrug. "Maybe..."

"Hm," Louis hummed out. He wrapped his arms around Harry from behind and put his head on his shoulder. "Just know that we could never afford this."

"Exactly what I was thinking!" Harry laughed out, shaking his head in astonishment. "It's gorgeous, really, but holy Jesus, this must be so expensive."

"I'd want a small wedding."

"At the gazebo?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at Louis.

He smiled. "At the gazebo."

"I could make it look real pretty with a lot of flowers and little lights," he muttered. His mind wandered off in thought as he imagined what it would look like. How beautiful and simple it could be. And he wanted that, he really wanted it badly. "I'd be the one walking the aisle, obviously."

"Obviously," Louis agreed. "But what dress would you wear? I think a mermaid style would really bring out your curves."

Harry snorted and lost his balance for a moment. "Could you imagine?" He laughed out. "I wonder how your sisters would react."

"We should prank mum with that. Knowing her, she'd be all in for it, though. So maybe not."

"Lovebirds!" Gemma yelled, walking over with a stern look to her face. "Get me out of this," she whispered to them.

Harry and Louis separated out of confusion. "What for?" Harry asked.

"I'm excited about this wedding and all, but Christ, this is exhausting. I can't take another 'but how would you like the texture of the petals?' I don't care, Brenda! It's just goddamn flower petals!" She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'm not cut out to be a bride."

Harry placed his hands on her shoulders. "Breathe. And open the gift I have for you."

Louis pursed his lips and pointed in another direction, mouthing "I'm gonna go," and then leaving.

"Gift?"

"Mhm," Harry hummed with a nod. He walked over to a chair where the guests will be sitting and took a seat. Gemma followed him and sat beside him, smiling and waiting for whatever Harry was a about to hand over.

He'd been carrying it around in his front pocket for a while now, waiting for a good time, and right now was good enough. So he stretched his leg out and dug into his pocket, pulling out a rectangular box closed up by a bow. He handed it over slowly, keeping his eyes on her eyes. Gemma was still smiling as she took it and undid the blue bow, but when she opened the box, it fell. She stared at it, her mouth open, Harry's hands sweating, and his heart pounding. 

"Harry..." She quietly said, delicately pulling out the pearl necklace. "I-I... I don't know what to say. Where did you find it?" 

Harry stared at the necklace that their mother wore on her special day and scratched his nose, trying to distract himself from crying. "Gran. Had it all this time, can you believe it? 

"That hoarder? Why, yes, I can," she laughed out, slowly putting it back in the box.

Harry rubbed his hands together. "Remember when we were kids and we'd get in mum's stuff? You always put on that necklace and her veil and march around the room, all posh and annoying, saying stuff like 'I'm gonna get married first,'" Harry said in an annoying childish tone. "And, well, you are, but that's not the point. Mum would have given that to you for your wedding day."

Gemma nodded and rubbed her eyes. "We were annoying kids, huh?"

"The worst," Harry agreed. 

"At least I never stole mum's dress and put it on."

"Once!" Harry laughed out, holding up a finger. "It happened one time!"

"Yeah, yeah," she waved, smiling fondly as she looked back down at the necklace. She closed the box and stood up, Harry mirroring her actions, and then they hugged. "Thank you so much for this," she whispered to him. 

He kissed her cheek and pulled away when someone was calling her name, shouting about how she wanted the lights around the tables. She groaned and swore underneath her breath, and then turned with a polite smile and walked off to help.

"Harry, look," Louis said, walking back over to him. Harry gasped when he saw what was in Louis' hand. Tiny crabs. "I've got . . . crabs."

Harry yelled at him and told him to put them down.

+

"And who's walking the bride down?" The wedding planner asked.

They were in the middle of rehearsal and things were going very smoothly. Thank God. Gemma didn't need anymore stress. Gemma also told Josh that he could pick the song he and his groomsmen walked out to, and was mortified when All Star by Smash Mouth started playing, and all the groomsmen walked out dancing and fist-bumping each other. It was amazing. But all Harry could think of was Shrek.

"Harry," Gem said, holding tightly to him. "He's also the Man of Honor, too. So."

"Sucks Gran couldn't come," Harry whispered to Gemma as the piano started playing a soft melody.

"Yeah," she agreed. "But she's getting old, so I understand. Howard said to live stream it for her."

"Howard," Harry mumbled.

They both started walking down the aisle, Gemma's arm wrapped around Harry's, and he couldn't help but look at Louis from where he was sitting on the side and think about how he couldn't wait for the day where he's walking down the aisle and Louis' at the end of it.

"And then Harry will join the girls beside Gemma," the planner said, and Harry did as told when he reached the arch. "Then the Pastor will ask everyone to sit, and then what?" She asked, looking at the Pastor.

"I'll turn to Josh and ask, 'man, you really wanna do this?'" Everyone laughed, but the guy was shaking his head. "Won't do that, promise." Then he went on an explained how the ceremony will go and rehearsed what else needed to be done.

They went through it all about three times, until Gemma was sure that she was happy with everything. Everyone started to wrap things up, and Gemma was all over Josh because they were spending the night apart. 

"Don't do anything crazy," she sternly said to him. Then she looked at his groomsmen. "I mean it!" They kissed sweetly and then she turned around and joined Harry and the other girls. "All right. What's first on our night out?"

"The bar, of course," someone happily yelled out. 

They all laughed but Harry knew he wouldn't be drinking a drop tonight. He wanted to be completely sober and aware of everything. Someone had to. And he wasn't in the mood to get drunk, never really was. It just always happened to him because he's such a lightweight. 

"I'm gonna head back," Louis whispered to Harry as he sneakily made his way beside him.

"No!" Gemma shouted. "You can hang out with us!"

"Aren't the dildo's and inappropriate outfits being given tonight? I'll pass."

Harry pouted and nodded sadly. "Fine. Won't do anything stupid, I promise," he reassured him, and then gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

Louis turned to Gemma and gave her a hug. "Make sure he doesn't get too wasted."

"Hey!" 

Louis pulled away with a smile and waved good-bye as he walked away.

+

Harry had never been apart of a bachelorette party before. He didn't know that these sweet and nice ladies could get so wild. They went to the bar first, where Gemma had the Lingerie Shower, and was red-faced throughout the entire thing. Then they drank. A lot. Harry was trying to keep an eye on all of them. And then after that, they put the gifts in the car, and then they told Harry to drive to the club. He did, and felt like he was taking care of teenagers while doing so. 

The club was packed and it took a while to get in, but once they were, Gemma was dragged off to the bar again and they all downed even more drinks. Harry kept up as best as he could, buying waters and sneaking it in their hands. They all thought it was more alcohol when they drank it and looked disappointed when it wasn't. Harry knew they'd thank him later, when the headache wouldn't be so bad in the morning because they stayed hydrated

Harry had to guide some of the girls away from strange looking men that didn't look like they were there to just dance with them. The girls all finally started to dance with Gemma and do inappropriate dance moves against each other. Then Harry felt a hand on his waist, and he really wasn't in the mood for this, so he spun around and snatched the wrist the hand was connected to and pulled it off of himself.

It was some guy with slicked back hair and a beard with that drunk eye look. 

"Taken. Bye," Harry firmly said, pushing the stranger in the opposite direction.

They were there for what felt like an hour, dancing until they really couldn't anymore, and then they headed back to the bar. Harry followed with a sigh and told the bartender to water it down the best she could without them noticing. She did, and he tipped her with a smile. And then someone shouted, "Jelly shots!"

The glasses on the table were knocked off and Charlie stood on the bar before laying down on it. Harry shook his head, because ew, that's not sanitary to lay on. 

Guys hollered in excitement and a jelly shot were placed on her bellybutton, and then some dude walked over and devoured it. Harry had to look away. This stuff never was his kind of thing. He couldn't see how people wanted other people to eat or drink from their stomach.

"Harry next!" Someone shouted.

"NO!" He said over the loud music, waving his hands back and forth. But then a lot of other people started shouting it and then he was pushed to the front of the bar. He was still shaking his head when Gemma forced him up the stool and shoved him on the bar.

"Live a little!" She shouted to him. 

Harry, with wide eyes, watched as Mary came over with a shot of what looked like vodka in a tiny glass. She gestured for Harry to lay down and pull his shirt up.

He sighed. "As long as one of you girls do it!" He hated shouting. He hated this, really. But he felt more comfortable if a woman he knew did it than some strange man.

Charlie hopped at the opportunity, though, and took the shot when Harry slowly raised his shirt up. So many people were looking and it made Harry flush. He'd never had so many people look at him with his shirt up. 

The shot was poured on his body, most of it in his bellybutton (and why do people like this so much?), and he just questioned his existence as he felt Charlie's mouth on his stomach, drinking what she could from it. When it was over, people shouted in happiness and Harry quickly pulled his shirt down and hopped off the bar. He knew it was definitely time to leave.

"All right," he said to himself, herding all of the drunk girls out the door. 

"One, two, three..." He stopped and furrowed his eyebrows. The girls were giggling and laughing at something that Harry didn't care to figure out. "Has anyone seen Leigh?" He shouted at them, trying to get their attention.

"Here," said an unhappy voice from behind him. "Don't feel so good," she said with a shake of her head. 

"Oh, God," he muttered, guiding her over to the grass outside and not the pavement area where people were standing. And then she threw up; Harry held her hair and tried to not look too disgusted. 

"Think we're done for the night," he told them. They all disagreed and nearly threw tantrums when he forced them in the car and told them to buckle up. 

"But I'm hungry!" Mary shouted.

"So am I," Gemma agreed.

Everyone else started shouting again, telling Harry to pull over to get something to eat.

+

After McDonald's, the backseats were quiet, and when it wasn't, the only thing said was, "Holy mother of Jesus, my mouth just danced its way to heaven."

He sighed to himself and felt exhausted from looking after them all night long. He doesn't want to know what would've happened without him. And one by one, he dropped them all off at their homes, and when they pulled into Gemma's home, Harry helped her out and got her situated in her own bedroom. He put a glass of water beside the bed and a trash can just in case, and left her as quietly as he could.

His feet were killing him. He needed a shower. Harry groaned and walked into his room, tired and unclean. 

"Lou," he said as he sat on the bed. Louis was snoring. But then he said it louder and Louis woke up with a gasp.

"'Arry, Jesus," he breathed out. "What is it? Everything go okay?"

Harry nodded, but then realized Louis couldn't see that in the dark room. "I'm not ready to have kids anytime soon."

"Neither am I," Louis groaned out, flopping around on the bed. "Get to sleep."

Harry groaned and forced himself to get up and get a shower. He nearly fell asleep in it, and barely put on his boxers before he collapsed in bed beside Louis. He was about to go to sleep. But then, for some unknown reason (he blames his tired brain), he said: 

"I had a body shot."

"Huh?" Louis muttered out. And a minute later, his mind seemed to wake up more. "You drank from someone's bellybutton?"

"No," Harry shook his head, reaching out to Louis when his voice started to raise. 

"It was the other way around?!" He loudly said, sitting up and switching on a lamp.

Harry groaned and shoved his face in a pillow. "I was forced to. And Mary did it, so chill. Or Charlie. I don't remember. But I'm tired, please turn off the lamp."

Louis sighed loudly and turned off the light, slowly slouching back into bed. "Did you like that? Did you drink a lot?" He asked, his tone much more softer than how it was before.

"Hated it. And didn't have a sip," he mumbled, snuggling up to Louis and kissing his shoulder. "Bloody embarrassing, though. Body shot's."

Louis sighed, and to Harry, it sounded like a sigh of relief. "Love you."

"Mm," Harry hummed out, not able to form words because of how tired he was. And then he just fell asleep, hoping that tomorrow wouldn't be so crazy.


	54. ❁43❁

Harry made sure to get up early and cook Gemma a healthy breakfast to get her day moving as smoothly as possible. He grabbed the pain relievers and set them out beside the food he prepared and patiently waited for Gemma to make her way into the kitchen. 

While waiting, he decided to gather the clothes he had to wear for the big day. Gemma had changed her mind on the floral shirt that Harry was supposed to wear and instead picked out an expensive looking tux. She wouldn't say where it's from because she knew Harry wouldn't wear it once finding out how much it was. It's black though, and Gemma, bless her heart, found a tux that has flowers on it. 

Where do you even find a floral-print suit? The shirt underneath is a button-up white one and he has black dress shoes (that he's never worn) to make the look more wedding-y. 

He puts it on in the bathroom for the heck of it, and surprisingly, it's comfortable. The material is soft and the matching black floral trousers have more room for his legs to breathe than his skinnies. The jacket, as soft as it is, will be hard to stay in all night because of the California heat, but he knows he can just take it off whenever he wants. He hopes not to sweat a lot because it would definitely be noticeable in the white button-up.

There's a knock on the bathroom door, and Harry flushes a little because he finds it embarrassing just randomly trying on the outfit. But it's Louis, and he says he needs to brush his teeth, and if he doesn't open the door, Louis will either tease him about taking a poo, or wanking. So he opens the door with red cheeks, and Louis looks like he's about to say something funny by the way his lips were formed in that teasing smirk, but once he sees what he's wearing, he just eyes him and opens his mouth a little.

"Um," Harry quietly says. "Just trying on the outfit." Louis' still staring, so Harry makes a move to leave, but he puts his hand up and blocks Harry from doing so. "Hey," he protests.

"One moment," Louis said. Harry took a step back and ran a hand through his shorter hair. Louis watched his movements and swore underneath his breath. "You look really good, babe. Just kind of . . ." He moves his finger in a circle. Harry's cheeks redden even more, but he does as told and turns around slowly, and then faces Louis again. Louis rubs his jawline. "Look so fit."

"Don't I always?" Harry defends, the famous pout returning to his lips.

"Yeah, baby. Always. But this just accentuates a lot of great things."

Harry can't help but smile. He's a sucker for compliments, so. "Yeah?"

Louis nods and looks him up and down again. "Yeah."

He giggles, can't help it, and then runs his hands over the jacket of the suit, tugging on it a little and feeling a whole lot more confident in it. "Should take it off now, though. I'm too clumsy to walk around in it."

"Mhm," Louis nods, moving in closer to Harry and tugging on the collar of his shirt and pulling him down a little, his lips moving in close to Harry's.

Harry ducks to the side and Louis' lips meet his cheek, and he's not really happy about that. "Brush your teeth first," Harry whispers to him, and then quickly walks away from him to avoid the wrath of Louis Tomlinson.

He carefully gets out of the expensive-feeling suit and hangs it up how it was before he put it on. He changes into some jeans and a comfortable t-shirt, and then makes his way downstairs. He can hear the shower water running from the bathroom Louis' in, and Harry knows for a fact that Louis doesn't like taking a shower the day of something important because he says his hair never wants to work, so Harry doesn't know why he's taking one now.

"Hello, bride!" Harry happily shouts when he sees Gemma in the kitchen eating the breakfast Harry prepared.

"Oi, man, hush. Got a headache," she grumbled unhappily. 

"Shouldn't have gotten so bloody drunk, then, huh?"

Gemma rolls her eyes and flips him off. Harry just smiles.

"Right, well. We have to get you to the venue around two for hair and makeup, so you don't have to rush around right now. Just chill out for a sec and try not to worry about anything."

Gemma nodded and put her plate in the sink with a sigh. "I'm getting married today."

Harry nodded. "You're getting married today."

+

"I'm not getting married today!" Gemma shouted.

The bridesmaid's gasped and tried to calm her down when she tried to climb out the window. Harry just shook his head. 

"You've always been so dramatic."

"I'm marrying someone in only an hour!" She shouted. She put her hand on her stomach and shook her head.

"Well, you look beautiful," Harry said. 

Her dress is a flowing one, and it flatters her so well. The neckline dips down lowly and is covered in lace, and the lace trails down the dress in such a lovely way. A jeweled belt wraps around her waist and in the back it's tied with white ribbon, and really, she couldn't have picked a more beautiful dress. The necklace that Harry had given her was sitting on her neck and it looked like the dress was made for a necklace like that, and it just made Harry even more proud.

"Shut up."

"Josh is gonna die when he sees you," he went on. "He's gonna cry, too. He's gonna wonder how he got so lucky and think about how he loves you so much."

Gemma inhaled and nodded. She turned to the side and looked at herself in the mirror and nodded again, as if mentally telling herself that this is what she wanted and that she was being stupid. Then she smiled and moved over to the couch in the room and sat down. Harry shook his head and combed his fingers through his hair; he didn't prepare himself for this kind of stress.

About forty-five minutes went by and in the last few minutes, everyone was huddled around the mirrors to check their hair and makeup to see if everything was looking okay. Harry stared at himself in the suit and looked a little smug (he really did look good), and fixed some hairs that were out of place. 

Everything was happening so fast. One moment they're hanging out in the Bridal room, and the next they're walking out the door to head over to the beach where the ceremony is. Harry's nervous because he doesn't want to trip, and the nerves get worse when he sees the bridesmaids slowly go down in number as they walked out. 

"Harry," Gemma said, looking to Harry with big eyes. "What would mum say if she were here?"

He inhaled and looked away in thought. "She'd . . . she'd tell you that you look beautiful. And that Josh is a lovely man," he started off, quietly and sadly. "And to pray when things get tough, 'cause, you know . . ."

"Remember that Jesus statue thing she kept in the house? The eyes followed you . . ." She said, eyes trailing around before meeting Harry's. "Thank you. She definitely would say that."

And then the music sounded. Gemma hastily grabbed Harry's arm and clutched tightly to it. A nervous laugh fell from his mouth and they started walking out together, both with nervous smiles. As they approached the wooden aisle, his eyes searched around for Louis, and there he was, at the front with a huge smile as he stared back at Harry. He hadn't had time to see Louis in his outfit because he had to get ready for the wedding, but goodness, he looked amazing. He was wearing a simple white button-up--much like Harry's--and black dress pants.

And his hair was combed up in that style Harry adored so much, so. There's that.

Gemma was grinning so widely when she saw Josh, and Josh was already wiping away tears when Harry looked at him.

And it was just all beautiful. Everything. From the ceremony, to the scenery, and Louis near the front as he tried to say something to him in sign language that he'd Googled. Harry didn't remember anything about it, so he just grinned and mouthed that he loved him. Louis seemed content with that reply. 

Harry also started crying when they read their vow's. Gemma said that she had been afraid of love for most of her life because of how love treated her, but Josh had changed everything. Josh spoke of growing up with parents that didn't express much and only cared about money. He said he'd always love and put her first, over his job and everything else, and that keeping her happy will be his main priority. It was too beautiful for Harry not to cry.

When the ceremony was over, all Harry wanted to do was run right to Louis and kiss his face because he loved him so much. And that's practically what he did, but he did it gracefully in his suit. 

Gemma and Josh disappeared to get ready for the reception, so Harry stayed with Louis, walking wherever he went, and clinging to him so much that it must have been annoying. But Louis didn't mind, it seemed, and allowed Harry to keep his arms around him.

The place where they were having the reception was just as beautiful. The lanterns hanging in the palm trees were lit up, giving such a peaceful glow, and the round tables had tiny candles and cameras on them. Harry loved that, of course, and once Harry and Louis found their table, he snatched the camera and started taking pictures of Louis. Gemma would definitely be annoyed when she was putting a scrapbook together in the future.

"Harry," Louis said in a quiet, annoyed voice. "Take pictures of yourself."

"No," he said with a smile, snapping another pic of Louis.

Louis then decided to grab the camera from Harry and repeatedly take pictures of him. Harry, surprised, stuck his hand out to try and cover the lense. 

"Heyyyy," he drawled out, grabbing the camera back and then holding it out. "Let's just take a picture of ourselves and that'll be it for the night."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"But I need something for Instagram, too, so we're gonna take one on my phone later on."

Harry didn't wait for Louis to respond, just smiled and pressed his lips to Louis' in a quick kiss, and then snapped the picture. He pulled away with a laugh and put the camera on the table and stood up, his hand out towards Louis.

"Let's dance now."

"Fine," Louis sighed out.

With their hands in each other's, they moved slowly to the dance floor. More people started dancing once Gemma and Josh walked out, so that made Harry feel like less eyes would be on him, but it also meant it would be harder to get to them. But at least he had Louis. 

His hands were around Louis' neck and Louis hands were on his waist, and for a moment they were just standing together, barely dancing to the music, and just holding one another. But then the Cha Cha Slide came on (Harry could never pass up a chance to dance to that), and soon after that song, they were just dancing goofily and making fools of themselves. 

It was the most fun Harry's had in a while.

"Food!" Louis shouted as he pointed back to their table. Harry nodded and followed him.

As they reached their table, Harry sat and stared at the chicken that was just put out and felt his stomach growl (thankfully the music was playing really loudly, otherwise Harry'd be embarrassed). Champagne was on the table so Louis and Harry grabbed a glass and sipped it happily, and enjoyed their meal as they watched Gemma and her husband dance.

"Can't believe she's married," Harry said with a shake of his head. He leaned over to Louis so that he could hear him better. "We're next."

Louis shrugged. "We've gotta top this somehow," he said with a playful smile.

Harry nodded and scooted his chair closer to Louis so that he could rest his head against his shoulder. He loves Louis so much. He can't even describe it anymore. He doesn't know if he knew how in the first place, but so much has changed from the first time they started out. They're living together, Harry's finally got the business he's always dreamed of having, and Louis might become one of the coolest tattoo artists of all time. Everything is just so good, and Harry never dreamed of his life being so good. Gemma and Harry had been through a lot throughout their lives and happiness and love is something they both deserved, and they've got it now. 

So Harry kissed Louis, and Louis kissed Harry. 

Because love is amazing and he's so lucky to feel it with Louis.


	55. ✿44✿

Since Gemma and Josh were on their honeymoon, Harry and Louis had the place to themselves for the day. After that, it was home to London. 

When Gemma and Harry said their good-bye's, it was quick and loving, because Harry didn't want it to be too dramatic. He can definitely be dramatic with good-bye's. 

Louis and Harry weren't drunk (just slightly tipsy) when the Uber driver had taken them home that night. Harry crashed (in what he discovered was a Gucci suit) on the bed next to Louis and woke up sometime in the afternoon the next day. Gemma told Harry to keep the suit, so Harry did, and packed it as carefully as he could. It was now the most expensive thing he owned and will probably ever own. 

Louis and Harry had their lazy day; they watched TV, made pasta, and then fell asleep again in preparation for the flight the following morning. That morning was spent with Louis annoyed at Harry's checklist he made on his phone, so he snatched Louis' charger and told him he'd give it back when he decided to be nicer. Louis' phone ended up dying.

Harry missed his home, honestly, and was happy when he returned back to it with Liam and Niall there to surprise him.

"Boys!" Harry happily said as he hugged their necks. "Don't make me take your keys," he whispered to them.

"We brought food, though," Niall said, showing Harry the Chinese food on the table.

"Finally put that key to use," Louis said with a yawn. 

Liam and Niall were fun to chat with for a few hours, but the exhaustion was getting to them so they left at some point. Harry doesn't really know. He fell asleep on the couch.

"Work," Louis whispered to Harry the next morning, giving Harry a kiss on the forehead and then heading out the door. Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes.

Then he texted Niall, Liam, Madeline, and Zayn.

Harry: he left. where we going to first??

Mad's: that coffee placeeeeee pls. ya girl needs caffeine.

Harry tiredly got up and showered, put on clothes, and left the house to meet at the coffee place he couldn't remember the name of. He knew it was good, though, and not very far. He saw the gang sitting outside and hugged him too tightly upon seeing him, but he didn't care, because he loved hugs and drinking coffee and doing things for Louis.

"So what's the plan?" Madeline asked Harry, following him inside.

Harry looked at the menu and scrunched up his nose. "There isn't one yet."

She groaned. "Hurry up and get your coffee, then. Your spy team needs to deviously make a plan."

He laughed, nodded, and then ordered his coffee. When he received it, he joined them all outside and pulled a chair out to sit in. 

"There's a jewelry store right down the street from here," Zayn told him.

"I was thinking just, like, all black? He's not a flashy person. He likes black," Harry said.

Zayn nodded in agreement and downed the rest of his coffee. It seemed everyone else was staring at Harry, impatiently waiting for him to finish his. He sighed and drank it as quickly as he could. 

Harry knew they were all excited and ready to help out, so what they were all doing is just really nice. He never thought he'd be in a place like this, where he's in the best relationship and has great friends. His heart is just so full. 

When the coffee was all gone, they all stood and made their way to the jewelry store Zayn mentioned. 

"So you're gonna propose?" Liam asked him.

Harry nodded and then shrugged. "I'm impatient," he said with a smile. 

"Didn't you wanna be the one to, like, be proposed to?"

Harry opened the door to the store and shrugged again. "I changed my mind."

Liam smiled and shook his head. "If he says no, I'll beat him up."

"Thanks," he laughed out. 

The store was nearly empty before Harry and his friends walked in and spanned out. Harry walked to the counter and looked at all of the expensive rings. 

"Hello! May I help you?" A cheerful girl asked him.

Harry looked at the girl behind the counter and smiled. "Yes, I'm looking for, like, um . . ." He trailed off, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to put it.

"Boy or girl?" She asked.

"Boy," he replied, still smiling. "Something, like, wedding band stuff. Y'know what I mean?" Harry, blushing heavily, looks around for help from his friends, but they're all off doing their own thing.

"Yes!" She nods, still smiling happily. She walks to the other end of the counter and motions for Harry to follow her. "What kind of bands would you like to see?"

"I think black."

She nodded and looked through all of the rings. "Know how you're gonna pop the question yet?"

"I'm still thinking on that," he nervously laughed out, reaching to scratch the back of his head. 

"Here's a few that we have. If you don't like them, I can get some more for you."

Harry looked down at the rings in their cushions and scanned over the various black bands. He didn't know there would be so many, honestly. His eyes fell on what looked like a matte black one and picked up interestedly, running his thumb over it, and then feeling of the gold on the inside of it. He really liked it.

"How much?"

"Three hundred and fifty quid, sir."

He nodded slowly and looked at it intently, and then to the others. The others had some jewels and details in it, but Louis' a simple man. Harry can imagine this ring on his finger, and he instantly falls in love with it. So he calls his friends over and shows them, and they get too loud and excited suddenly.

"Perfect!" Mad's shouted, holding it to her face. "Perfect!" 

"Right, I think I'll take it, then," Harry said to the girl, after everyone agreed that it was the one. 

+

Harry didn't know where the heck to hide the ring. He went to the guest bedroom in the house and opened the closet, and then moved things around before hiding it on the shelf. Before, he went all over the house and tried to find places that Louis didn't check or go (like the dishwasher), but he didn't want to take any chances, so the back of the closet it is.

And then he sat on the couch to think about how he wanted to do this. It has to be the most romantic thing he's ever done. Flowers have to be involved. No restaurant proposes because that's cliche, and Harry isn't a cliche boy. Well. On occasion he is. 

But he hasn't realized he'd been brainstorming for so long that he nearly forgot to get supper ready before Louis returned from work. He nearly slapped himself.

And then he heard the door open, which made him feel horrible.

"Louis! I'm so sorry! Forgot about supper, so just go shower and hopefully it'll be done quick," Harry said with a frown, rushing about in the kitchen.

"Haz," Louis quietly said as he walked into the kitchen. 

Harry turned around and put his apron on, brows raised. "Yeah?"

"Take the apron off," Louis said. He walked over to Harry and put his hands on his shoulder. "We're going out to eat."

Harry blinked. "What for?"

"Because I got the job."

Harry's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "YOU GOT THE JOB?" He shouted.

"I got the job!" Louis happily said back.

Harry tightly embraced him and laughed loudly, squeezing the dear life out of Louis because he was so proud. "You got the job!" Harry said again, kissing his neck and then his cheeks. "When do you start?"

"Couple days. So go get a cute outfit on, I'm taking you somewhere nice."

Harry untied the apron and put it away. He was so happy and proud, and he was glad they were going out to eat. They haven't done that in a while since they have a lot of bills to pay, so they cut out on those dinner dates. Harry's already feeling spoiled, but he's just so proud of Louis. He's going to tattoo those rich celebrities. How amazing! 

Harry flitted about in the room to try and find something to wear. He decided on his usual jeans and a black button-up (with a few buttons left unbuttoned), and then grabbed his wallet and keys and stuffed them in his pockets before leaving the room and waiting for Louis to get done showering. To pass time he tidied up the living area and kitchen, and reminded himself that tomorrow was vacuuming and mopping day. 

"All right, you ready?" Louis asked as he walked out.

His hair was only a little bit damp, but he was wearing a white t-shirt, black jeans, and a gray jacket. Harry fondly smiled.

"You look so beautiful," he said, and that made Louis roll his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go," he spoke, motioning Harry with his hand. 

Harry gladly took his hand and walked with him down to Louis' car, giggling to himself when Louis opened the car door for him, because, well... He couldn't help but giggle. 

"Where are we eating?" He asked Louis once he got in the car.

"Somewhere nice. Where you can order steak," Louis nodded.

Harry nodded too. "Places that have steak should always be nice."

"Agreed."

And the place they went to that had steak was very nice. The light was dim (which is a sign of a fancy place), the napkins were made from a thick cloth material, and Louis was just glowing because of how happy he is. He told Harry that Zayn was jealous and gave him the silent treatment at first upon finding out, but soon came around and congratulated him. 

Harry was having the time of his life as he watched Louis go on about how excited he was for something new and so cool. It's just amazing that everything is working out so well in their lives. 

"Can I be the first person to receive a tattoo from you at your new job?" Harry asked with a wide smile.

"I don't know if you can afford me."

Harry's mouth opened, shocked, but he laughed and threw his napkin at Louis with a roll of his eyes.

"You suck," Harry mumbled.

"I do. But so do you, from what I recall from last night," Louis spoke in a quieter voice.

Harry flushed and slouched in his seat a little. "Shut up," he said with a shake of his head. He scratched his nose to try and hide his smile. 

Louis watched Harry, his bright eyes following his movements in a stare that always made Harry squirm. Louis knew this, Harry thinks, because Louis would sometimes make inappropriate comments in public and stare at him so intensely like he is now. It makes Harry get that small feeling every time. 

"More champagne?" The waiter asks, holding out the bottle towards Harry's glass.

Harry looked at Louis, wondering if he could or not. Because he liked Louis making decisions for him when he felt like this.

"No, he's had enough. Thank you."

The waiter smiled and walked away. Harry shifted in his seat and reached out to drink his water that was barely drunk out of, and sipped it just to have something to do. Louis' gaze didn't ease up.

"I was thinking," Louis started, his fingers messing with his straw, "next week I wanna take you somewhere."

Harry put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "Where?"

"It's a surprise," Louis said with a mischievous smile.

Harry scrunched up his nose and tilted his head. "Is it a fancy surprise or a casual surprise? I need to know how to dress."

Louis rolled his eyes and stood up. "Not telling." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, and then put money on the table. He motioned for Harry to stand up too, so he did.

"What if I show up nude?" Harry quietly said to Louis as they walked together. Louis placed his hand on Harry's lower back and he just really liked that.

"Why would you be nude?"

Harry walked outside and followed Louis to their car. "Well. What if I thought you were taking me to a nude beach?"

Louis looked at Harry without much amusement on his face and opened his door for him. "If I leave the house nude next week, then you can go nude too. If not, then put on clothes."

Harry slid into the seat but kept his feet on the ground so that Louis couldn't shut the door. "What kind of clothes?"

Louis raised a brow and sighed. "I'm not telling. Now put your feet in and buckle up."

Harry sighed and put his feet in, but didn't buckle up because he wanted to annoy Louis. When Louis got in, he gave Harry a glare that scared Harry into buckling up and putting his hands in his lap. The rest of the car ride was quiet between them, with music playing on the radio. And it was nice. Harry liked looking out the window and at all the lights outside. He felt so peaceful and content, and excited for whatever Louis was planning next week. 

Harry reached out across the console and tapped on Louis' elbow, a signal known too well that he wanted to hold his hand. So Louis held his hand out, and Harry grabbed it. He couldn't help but smile.


	56. 44½

**warning: adult content. (skip over it if it aint ur thing honey)**

It was strange for Louis to work somewhere without Zayn to keep him company when he was bored. But the new job, he was just loving it. He never thought he was good enough to get paid so highly for something he loved doing.

He'd just got done with his latest tattoo when his phone started ringing, so he rolled his chair over to the desk where he kept his phone, and saw that it was Harry. So he answered.

"Hi."

"Louis, I need you to tell me how to dress. Please."

Harry sounded so desperate through the phone. Louis smirked, because, well. He liked messing with Harry like this.

"Date clothes," Louis replied.

"Fancy date clothes?"

Louis rolled his eyes and put him on speaker so that he could take his gloves off. "Just wear something comfortable."

"So it's not so fancy!" Harry shouted. Louis sighed. "I'm gonna dress comfortably."

"Good for you," Louis grunted. Of course Harry got a little bit of information out of him.

"Hey, Lou?" Harry asked, voice a little bit quieter. Louis, standing from his chair, started cleaning around his desk.

"Hm?"

"Y'know what we haven't done yet?"

Louis raised a brow and heard the door open behind him. He grabbed his phone, about to tell Harry that someone just walked in, but then Harry said:

"Phone sex." 

"Whoa-whoa-whoa," Louis quickly said, switching it off speaker and pressing the phone to his ear. "Sorry, Haz. I've got to go, uh." He turned to the girl who was laughing at the door and smiled apologetically. "Someone just walked in, gotta work. Love you." He hung up quickly and laughed awkwardly. "I'm sorry about that," he said to the girl. "Take seat, please."

She smiled and sat where he motioned. "If you need some privacy, I can always come back later."

+

"I was on speaker?!" Harry shouted, his hands coming up to cover his face. "This is awful," he groaned out.

"Phone sex, huh?" Louis said with a slight smile. 

Harry nudged his arm and told him to shut up. "I was in a weird mood," he muttered.

"Mhm," Louis hummed with narrowed eyes. Harry squirmed and nudged his arm again.

Harry sighed to himself (something he always does when he's embarrassed), and sat down on Louis' lap. "When are we leaving?"

Louis, scrolling through his phone, barely looked up when Harry sat on him. Harry likes getting attention from Louis, he knows this, and it's why he kept looking at his phone. Sometimes he just likes to make Harry a little desperate for him. That's all. 

"In a minute," Louis replied, as he tapped his thumbs against the keyboard of his phone.

"Who are you texting?" Harry asked with a pout, ducking his head in front of Louis' to catch a look at his phone. All it did was get Harry's hair in his mouth. 

"Harry," Louis firmly said as he turned his head away. He dropped his phone on the space of his thigh where Harry wasn't sitting, and pushed Harry's head away. "Got all your hair in me mouth. Great."

"Sorry," Harry whispered. Then he placed his hands behind Louis' neck. "Wanna go get surpriiiised." 

"Can't sit and have a conversation with my boyfriend?" Louis asked defensively. Truth is, he's stalling.

"You were staring at your phone the whole time!" Harry slightly yelled. There was a redness creeping up on his cheeks. Louis touched it and Harry hunched a little, which sort of left Louis a little surprised by how calm he can make Harry from just the littlest touch.

"Sorry," Louis apologized. Harry started to bite his lip, so Louis pulled it free with his thumb and rubbed over the reddening lip. "How was your day?"

"Good," Harry said. He was blinking a lot, a sign that he was starting to slip into a daze. "Missed you."

Louis dropped his hand from Harry's face and put it on his back, slowly starting to rub it. "Missed you, too. But how was work?"

"Good," Harry said again, with his eyes closed.

Louis stopped rubbing his back.

"He-ey," he protested with a frown, leaning back to try and find Louis' hand.

"How was work?" Louis asked again.

"Well, Gabe dropped a vase filled with flowers today. He felt so bad about it, though, and started crying. Poor Gabe. Never seemed like the type to cry when he makes a mistake, y'know. I think my sensitive personality is rubbing off on him. And had this cute couple come in. They looked around and this guy was just picking out random flowers for a bouquet his boyfriend bought him. Wasn't cohesive at all, but his boyfriend looked at it like it was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. So cute."

Harry didn't seem to realize that Louis asked that a second time. He probably didn't hear it until now, when he stopped giving him physical attention. He really was slipping. Louis always found that interesting and a little bit scary. It was so easy for Harry to just...shut down, and accept whatever form of touch he received from Louis. That's why it was scary, because he always wanted Harry alert and aware of what's going on, no matter what they're doing. He doesn't want to overstep, and he knows he never will, but he just wants Harry to have the ability to at least think. Harry, though, has expressed that he's never gone into "smallspace" before Louis (they had to Google what it was and Harry didn't like the word "subspace"), and trusts him completely when he goes there. 

"That's nice," Louis said with a smile. Then he tapped Harry's leg. "Get up, it's time to go."

"Finally!" He shouted and hopped up. 

He was wearing jeans and a Journey t-shirt (typical), and Louis threw on a clean white shirt and told himself that it was as good as he was gonna look anyway. 

Harry was bouncing on his feet when Louis got up and headed for the door, and then walked to the car. Harry is obviously very excited about this. But when they were both situated in their seats, Louis pulled out a blindfold and Harry groaned loudly. 

"Is this necessary?" Louis just smiled. "Ugh," Harry groaned again and then put the blindfold on. 

When Louis made sure Harry wasn't peeking, he started the car and drove to the destination where the big surprise would be. The only reason he blindfolded Harry is because he would know where they'd be going if he was paying attention, and Louis really wanted Harry to be happily surprised. He hasn't ever really done anything like this and needs this night to be absolutely perfect.

"This is it. I'm getting murdered," Harry whispered to himself.

"Aw, man. You figured out my surprise," Louis unenthusiastically said.

"Just make it quick."

"Sure thing."

Then they reached the building, so Louis parked and turned the car off. Harry kept going on about dying and such, but Louis ignored it and helped him out of the car. The place he was going to was closed by now, and he used the key that was given to him to unlock the door and head inside. 

The aquarium hadn't changed a bit from the last time Louis was here. 

He made sure to keep Harry balanced as he guided him, and kept talking so that he wouldn't hear the noises the large tanks made. Memories resurfaced from the last time he was here with Harry. When he wanted to kiss him so badly but couldn't, because he didn't want to hurt Harry by showing who he is. Louis thought it was all he could do, hurt people, but Harry proved him wrong.

He somehow managed to get Harry to the place they swam last time without him tripping or giving away the place Louis took him to. He had it all planned out carefully, though, and rehearsed this exact thing over and over the week before. But now his brain was freezing up and his palms were getting sweaty. He inhaled and pulled away from Harry, who was facing the water now. Louis bent down and started untying Harry's shoelaces. 

"Wha-?" Harry started, but let Louis pull off his socks and shoes. "Louuuu, what's going on?"

"You'll see in a moment." He took off his own shoes, and when he was done, he stood up again and walked behind Harry, and then pulled the blindfold off.

Harry practically screamed in excitement, but that didn't last long. He turned around and shoved Louis. "You could've told me you were taking me here!"

Louis raised his arms a little and huffed. "I wanted to be romantic!"

Harry pursed his lips, crossed his arms, tapped his toes, and then nodded with a smile. "Very romantic. Revisiting the first date spot!" Harry happily said. He then enveloped Louis in his airplane arms and squeezed the dear life out of him. 

"I thought that dinner under the tree thing was the first date?" Louis strained out.

"Sure, whatever you wanna believe." Harry kissed Louis' forehead.

"We didn't get to do that thing we both wanted to do last time, so I thought I'd take you back and do it," Louis said. Harry raised a brow in confusion until Louis tilted his head up a little (damn Harry and his tallness) and pressed his lips to Harry's.

Harry instantly kissed him back, his lips so soft and smooth against Louis'. Kissing Harry is like coming up for air when your thoughts start to become too much to handle. Louis feels calm and so much damn love for this flower-loving boy. He starts to back Harry towards the water, and poor Harry doesn't even know he's being pushed into the water until he is. Louis, with his hand covering his back pocket, jumps in after him after pulling the small ring out, and then his nerves come back. Louis starts breathing heavily and flinches out of surprise when Harry comes up and shakes his head like dogs do when they get wet.

"You absolute turd!" Harry shouted, his eyes closed as he rubbed them. "I fell for it again! At least this time it was much sneakier, but goddamn you!"

Louis watched patiently, and waited for Harry to clear his eyes. When he did, he narrowed them and looked as if he was about to shove Louis underneath the water, but then he saw the ring in his hand. He froze.

And so did Louis' brain.

"I had this thing memorized. I wrote it all down and memorized it, and now I don't know what the hell to say," Louis nervously laughed out. "Right. Well. Remember when we first bumped into each other? We were both sick and I was annoyed and angry at the world, and you just looked beautiful, and I was so mad at you because of it. Who looks beautiful when they're sick? I don't . . . even . . . Ugh, damn, okay," Louis sniffled and shook his head a little. He looked at Harry and just melted. "Harry Styles," He started off. Harry giggled and hid his smile behind his hands. "I love you so much. I've never felt anything like this before in my life, something so powerful and overwhelming. In a good way," he laughed out nervously. Then he inhaled deeply. "I'm not perfect. Far from it. But I'll try to be for you. Harry, baby, will you marry me?"

"God, yeah!" Harry shouted, then threw his arms around Louis. Louis reached out towards the edge of the tank and gripped to it so that Harry wouldn't take him under. 

They were soaked. They kissed quickly and messily, teeth bumping and Harry's hands clawing at Louis' back. It was amazing.

When they pulled apart, Louis slid the ring down Harry's finger and then he started crying. "It's so beautiful," he whispered. Then he splashed water at Louis. "I was gonna propose!"

Louis furrowed his eyebrows and pulled himself out of the water. "What?" He questioned, and then helped Harry out. 

"I bought a ring and was gonna propose! Was gonna scatter flowers all around the apartment and surprise you when you got home from work in, like, in a couple of weeks."

Louis snorted and then shoved Harry back in the water. "Sucks to suck."

Harry was very displeased about being knocked into the water yet again. But then Louis lightly got into the water after him and ducked underneath to take a look at all the fish they were currently disturbing. Harry followed after him for a moment, and then realized that he could possibly lose his ring, so he swam up to the top and took it off. They spent a lot of time doing that, until their fingers were pruning up unattractively. And they kissed a lot. Louis can't believe the proposal, the thing he'd been stressing out over for so long, happened so fast. And now he and Harry are going to get married in the future. 

Truthfully, he never imagined himself getting married so young. But he just loves Harry so much and can't imagine a life without him. 

Harry was all over him when they walked to the car, kept his hands on him in the car ride back, and was like that when they got home. Harry wasn't very shy anymore about what he wanted, when he wanted it, like he used to be. Their first time intimately together like that was...surprising. He thought Harry would be the vanilla type.

"Harry," Louis mumbled against Harry's mouth. Harry whined when Louis pulled away. "Can I see the ring you got me?"

Harry's hair was still wet. Not soaking, but a little bit more than just damp. His face was flushed and his lips were so red from all the kissing. Louis loved seeing Harry like that. 

"All right," Harry quietly said, then turned and made his way to the guest bedroom. 

Louis kicked his shoes off and pulled off his shirt because he didn't like having wet clothes on, and couldn't help but smile to himself when Harry walked out with a black ring in his hand.

"I thought you'd like something simple," Harry said with a nervous shrug.

Louis grabbed it and slid it down his finger. "I love it," he spoke with a smile. He stepped closer to Harry and cupped his red cheeks, then placed a kiss on his lips. "Thank you. It's perfect."

"Leave it on," Harry whispered, his eyes staying on the ring on Louis' finger. Harry bit his lower lip and glanced towards Louis' eyes for a short moment, before releasing yet another whine.

It took Louis a moment to get what he meant, and who is he to deny Harry of such a simple request?

"Anything for you, baby boy."

Harry shivered and reached out to pull Louis into a kiss, but Louis turned his head and pulled away. Harry looked like he was about to cry.

"Need to wash our clothes," Louis said. Harry nodded and eagerly started to pull off his shirt. 

And this is how it starts. Harry gets excited to obey, gets desperate and ready to receive anything. Louis watches as Harry takes off his pants without giving it another thought. Louis grabbed his clothes and told him he could leave his underwear on, and all Harry did was nod and follow Louis to the laundry room. It's like Harry gets lost when Louis doesn't tell him what to do in these moments.

"You can go lay down. On the bed." Harry nodded again. Louis shoved their clothes in the washer, along with his own jeans, and started it up. 

Everything that had happened in the past few hours were starting to blur into happy memories. When they do things like this, Harry feels his small thing, but Louis just feels drunk. He doesn't really know how to explain it, feeling drunk and completely sober at the same time. It's just that Harry's so incredible, is all.

When he walked into their room and saw Harry sitting with his back pressed to the headboard and legs spread, he smiled. Harry was sitting patiently, awaiting further instructions. Louis placed the bottled water he grabbed from the kitchen on the nightstand and stood over Harry. Engagement sex. He didn't know how this was supposed to go, but he had a few ideas.

But then Harry held out the blindfold from the car ride to the aquarium and Louis' ideas went out the window. 

"You want to use it?" Louis asked, grabbing it and running his fingers over the black material. Harry only nodded.

"Use your words, H."

"I--yeah. Please?"

Louis hummed to himself and then motioned Harry over with his hand, and then tied it around his head. "Good?"

"Mhm," Harry hummed, his fingers twitching at his sides.

They'd never tried this. Louis liked staring into Harry's eyes, loved watching him struggle to keep them open because Louis told him to. 

"Remember to talk to me, Harry," Louis reminded him. Harry slips so easily and gets lost in his head, and Harry talking to him lets him know he's still here and aware. 

"Okay," he quietly said. He moved back to the head of the bed and leaned his head back and sighed loudly. He was hard in his boxers already, and just now, Louis realized the power of teasing this blindfold thing has given him. 

He climbed on the bed and pulled Harry's legs apart so that he could move in between them. Harry crossed his arms over his tattooed stomach and started to breathe heavily. Louis can only imagine what it's like to be so focused on the touch of everything when your vision is gone. Imagine what it's like to wait, not knowing what will happen.

"You okay?" Louis asked, still kneeling between his legs. He moved his hands down Harry's thighs and forced his legs down on the bed. His mouth was open and his hands were already gripping the sheet underneath him. 

"Yeah. Lou, please," Harry whined out, jerking his crotch up, signaling that he wanted to be touched. "Please."

"Later," Louis firmly said. Then he dipped his head down and placed a kiss on Harry's thigh, so close to where Harry really wants to be kissed at. But Louis likes teasing. And he wants Harry to beg more. Harry groaned deeply, his other leg kicking down on the bed for not getting what he wanted. "Behave." Louis pinched Harry's thigh disapprovingly.

"I-I'm sorry. Just want you touch me. Want it so badly."

"I know," Louis sighed out. "But I said later." He sucked on Harry's thigh, taking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. He wanted it to bruise a little there. Harry has said before he likes it when Louis does it there, so at least Louis' giving him something he likes. Harry slouches a little and whines high in his throat. "Lay down," Louis says, moving back to give Harry room. 

When Harry does as told, Louis moves over Harry and sits right on his crotch. Harry's mouth opened, surprised to have any kind of touch there. Louis licked his lips at the sight below him and situated himself a bit just to rub against Harry's hardened length teasingly. It was so there and prominent against him. Louis had to control himself from just ripping off his boxers and having his way with Harry.

"Beautiful," Louis complimented. He leaned down and kissed his chest, slowly dragging his lips up to Harry's neck. But then Harry jerked his hips up against Louis and released a loud moan, and then repeated the action. "Harry," he spoke, trying to control himself from getting angry. Well. Not angry. He can understand that he wants it so badly that it hurts, but he just wants Harry to listen to him. He pulled away from his neck and placed his hands on Harry's hips, pushing them down to stop the movements. "What's wrong with you today? Don't move. Be a good boy for me."

Harry sobbed dryly. Louis stared at his face to see if tears were coming, but there weren't any. "I'm trying," he breathed out, hands going to his hair to grip at it. 

Louis' stern features softened and he rubbed his thumbs against Harry's hips, and then moved down his body. "Won't give you what you want unless you listen. You can do it, baby," he told him. He watched Harry for a second, the hands in his hair loosening, and then they gripped at the sheets again. Louis hummed, dipped back down against Harry's body, and sucked a bruise onto his hip, right below his tattoo. Harry whined but kept still. "Good boy," he proudly said, and then blew cool air over the fresh bruise. He felt Harry's cock twitch against him, and, okay, Louis' starting to get as desperate as Harry.

"Want you to touch yourself now," Louis says, because he knows Harry finds it a little embarrassing to do it in front of Louis. And Louis loves watching him, but whatever. He sits up and reaches over to find the lube he keeps in the drawer, and once he finds it, he pulls it out and then helps Harry get his boxers off.

Harry groans to himself, shaky hands reaching down. Louis pours lube onto Harry's tip, and he inhales quickly out of surprise. Harry's so hard. He doesn't seem to care about Louis watching him, because he takes himself in his hand and starts stroking himself with these helpless noises that just shoot tingles up and down Louis' body. 

"Slower," he demanded, watching as Harry instantly slows down his movements. Louis doesn't take his eyes away. Harry's head pushes back against the pillow, whining and releasing such beautiful noises. He coats his fingers with lube, and when Harry hears this, he jerks involuntarily into his own hands. 

Louis moves Harry's legs further apart and tells him to keep it like that. His fingers travel over Harry's for a moment, and Harry nearly loses it. His hand speeds, but then he started to slow down back to the pace Louis approved of. His fingers traveled lower and lower, holding the moment out as long as he could, before his finger circles over Harry's rim. Harry cries out, whispering incoherently, and holds his hand tightly at the base of his dick. Louis pushes a lubed finger in, and Harry's just so tight and clenching already, wanting more. 

"Relax," Louis tells him. He raises a brow when he notices Harry hasn't continued his movements. "Did I tell you to stop?"

"Louis, won't-won't last. Won't last."

"You're just gonna have to."

Harry's lower lip was shaking when he started back up his very slow movements. His face was so red; that beautiful, angelic face, with his mouth hung open and eyes still blindfolded. Louis didn't deserve to marry such a wonderful man, one so kind and gorgeous, but he is. His eyes are still focused on Harry when he slips in another finger and works on stretching him out. Harry's swearing now, the pleasure consuming him completely. Louis' so hard, too, just throbbing in his pants and wanting to be touched, but his fiance's needs will always come above his own, and he wants it that way. Wouldn't have it any other way. 

Impatience gets to the best of Louis, as it does to a lot, and he felt Harry was ready for a third, so that's what he gave him. Harry, jerking his hand rapidly, instantly comes all over himself. Louis watches with his lips firmly together, letting his fingers pleasure him until it was over. 

"Oh, God," Harry shakily said, chest falling up and down, head turning onto the side of the pillow. He seemed so wrapped up in bliss. "I'm s-sorry," he whispered with a frown.

"It's okay," Louis said. He wouldn't have said that normally, but today is special. He wants to keep Harry happy. "Think you can--"

"Yes," Harry interrupts.

"Use your blindfold to clean yourself up. Tired of not looking into your eyes."

Harry obeys and carefully unties the black fabric. When it's off, he blinks quickly, adjusting from seeing nothing to seeing a lot, and then, like the good boy he is, wipes his stomach clean. When his eyes fall on Louis, he groans deep in his throat and lifts himself up on his forearms to get a better look.

"Lou-Lou-Lou-Lou-Lou," Harry repeated, stopping Louis from his actions. Harry tapped his mouth. Louis slowly pulled his fingers out and moved up towards Harry to kiss him. His other hand was reaching around for the lube, but Harry's sweet mouth was making it hard to do that. The soft lips moved slowly against his, yet so sloppily and dirty. 

Louis positioned himself above Harry and pulled away from his addicting mouth to lube himself up. Harry put his arm over his eyes and laid down, starting to breathe heavily again, his dick fattening up once more. Louis is a believer in lots of lube and Harry's noises when he presses the head of his cock into him. The arm covering his face falls onto the bed and his long fingers dig into the sheets, while Louis takes his time filling Harry up. And Harry's just always so tight. It amazes Louis. 

"Please move," he groaned, blissed out. 

So Louis did. He pulled out, out enough to make Harry whine from such sudden loss, before thrusting back in. The bed shook. Harry's hands found Louis' back, fingernails digging in as Louis repeated those actions. He was getting lost in it, getting lost in all of the pleasure and the quick rhythm that he barely felt Harry's nails digging deeply into his back. 

"Fuck," he quietly said, leaning his head down to Harry's and leaving a kiss on his jaw. He loved him so much, loved the time when they could just be so wrapped up in one another like this. It was like they created this world here, just the two of them, and they could get away from all of the things that had bothered them in the past and just live in one another. "I love you," he breathed out, taking Harry's wrists in his hands and pushing them down on the bed. 

Harry had that dazed look on his face, his pupils blown and his mouth hung open. Louis' hands moved from Harry's wrists to his hands, and they tangled together. Louis would change pace a lot, from slow and deep, to fast and deep. He didn't think Harry noticed because he was just out of it and letting the pleasure take over him completely. Louis wanted to bring him back, though. Just a little bit. That's why they usually talked through it, made Harry tell him how he felt.

"Baby," Louis whispered against his ear. "Talk to me."

Harry released a loud moan, slowly getting pulled out from the space he goes to in his head. "Good," he gasped out, blinking quickly. "So good."

Now that Louis had him, he decided that he wanted to overstimulate him. So he grabbed Harry's leaking cock and quickly started stroking him off. Harry, who was getting over that daze he was in, loudly moaned out and jerked up into Louis' hand, but found himself not knowing what to do with his hands. So much was happening to him that he couldn't really take it, and the way Harry looked and sounded was enough for him to get that feeling. That feeling that he couldn't last for much longer. But a gentleman always finishes last. 

"Please--gonna--sir, please. Been so good. So good," he muttered out, words jumbled.

Louis couldn't get words out. He kept up with his actions, knew he didn't need words because Harry wouldn't last anyway. And sure enough, just moments later, Harry came for the second time, dirtying up Louis' hand. He was thrusting up into Louis' hand, riding out his high, and shit, Louis couldn't hold it in anymore. 

"Shit, shit," he groaned out, thrusting in and out of Harry slowly. Harry's face scrunched up, so sensitive, but he kept his mouth shut. Louis' sweaty and exhausted. They were both a mess when he pulled out and settled beside Harry. He ran his fingers through his damp hair. 

"Got your ring all dirty," Harry said with a smile, chest rising and falling. 

Louis sat up after catching his breath and laughed. "You did." He took in a few more deep breaths before slowly standing, trying to regain some energy. He reached out for Harry and helped him out of bed and to the shower. "How about you wash me this time?"

Harry was leaning all of his weight against Louis, eyes droopy and face still red. He just looked fucked out. When they reached the shower, he leaned against the wall before sitting on the place where they put the shampoo and soap. Louis turned on the water and waited for it to get warm before directing the water on themselves. 

"Harry," Louis said. Harry looked up at him and smiled. Louis thinks he's going to be in that small space for a while. "You feeling okay?"

Harry looked at Louis' naked body and pouted. Their hair was damp, but Louis was getting hit with most of the water because he was standing in front of Harry to block the water from hitting his face. Harry suddenly fell to his knees though, and Louis thought he was falling, so he kind of freaked out and gripped his upper arms, but Harry just swatted them away and nuzzled his face against Louis' thigh. 

And. Right. Of course Harry wants that right now. Louis can't exactly be mad. He ran his fingers through Harry's wet hair and gave it a tug to lift his head up, just to see if he was completely aware about what he was going to do. 

"You didn't answer me."

Harry pouted. Goddamn him and those rosy lips. 

"M'fine. Want you to . . ." Harry stopped and opened his mouth a little. Louis was getting fucking hard again, of course (who wouldn't with a beautiful man on their knees for you?). 

"You want that?" Louis asked, just to make sure. 

"Yes, sir," he quietly replied. 

Louis swore underneath his breath and cupped Harry's face, his thumb running over his lips. Harry was being a downright tease and decided to suck on Louis' thumb while looking him dead in the eye. Louis swore again and gripped his dick, stroking himself off just to get fully hard again. It didn't take long, even if he was a little sensitive. Harry's tongue was swirling around his thumb and, well, he started getting impatient. He pulled his hand away and gripped his hair again, tugging his head back a little too roughly, but Harry didn't seem to care. He eagerly opened his mouth.

Harry's hands gripped the back of Louis' thighs, and when Louis planned on fucking Harry's mouth slowly and gently, Harry had other plans. He just took Louis into his mouth fully and kept going until he was just gagging. His cock hit the back of his throat, and Harry didn't pull away. He just shut his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose, trying to adjust. 

Louis' breathless. His hand tightens on Harry's hair, and Harry groans, and shit, Louis could've been done for right then. He pulls Harry's head back by his hair, and then shoves him back down. Louis' hips jerk. His other hand grabs a fistful of his fiance's hair to steady his head as he fucks into his mouth relentlessly. And Harry's loving every moment of it. He stares up at Louis with those big green eyes, his eyes watering, and it's a sight. It's obscene. Tingles shoot up and down Louis' body and his legs kind of get wobbly, but Harry just digs his nails into the back of his thighs and it brings him back down. 

Harry leans back, Louis' dick falling from his mouth. But he grips it at the base and then sticks his tongue out, presses it flatly against the head of his cock, and teasingly takes it into his mouth, before pulling off again. 

"Fuck," he breathes out, watching Harry, before tugging his head back and beginning to fuck his mouth again. He has to teach Harry that he's not the one in control here. But apparently Harry wanted to tease, because he pulled away again and used his large hand to get Louis off, his mouth taking the head in and doing that damn thing with his tongue again.

His eyes found Louis' once more. He watched his mouth, his red lips beautifully wrapped around the head. Then Harry moans, and honestly, now he's playing with Louis, putting on a show. Dirty boy. But it really gets to Louis, because he's close again. It didn't take long, not after what happened just earlier before this. Harry's hand speeds up, and his mouth goes down on Louis to meet his own hand, and he repeats the action until Louis loses it and needs to hold himself up by placing his hands on the wall behind Harry. And he fucking sucks him dry.

"Holy . . ." Louis trailed off, looking down at Harry. Some of the mess he made was dripping from Harry's mouth, so he swiped it off with his thumb and Harry took it into his mouth. Louis' so in love. 

"Is my fiance gonna wash me? I'm exhausted," Louis said with a wide smile. 

Harry pouted and stood up with a shake of his head. "Me first. Fiancé.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (oh and btw im not a smut writer?????? i never intended this fic to have it, but to quote harry, it just kinda happened)


	57. ❁45❁

Harry's living in a dream. That's what it is. Because he can't believe how beautiful the ring is, how the flowers (and cute diamonds!) in the band look on his finger, and he's just gonna cry every time he looks at it. He'd stop cleaning to admire it. When he'd lay in bed, he'd pull out his phone and turn on the light to look at it. Louis did so good, knows him so well. He's never seen a ring like this. 

"I cry every time I look at it," Harry told Louis. Louis was making the bed and Harry, of course, was looking at his ring. "You did so good, Louis! It's so beautiful!"

Louis gave Harry a look as he placed the pillows at the head of the bed. "We're supposed to be at Niall's and Liam's at seven, you know. Just reminding you."

Harry grins and falls onto the freshly made bed. "How could I forget? My own engagement party!"

Louis picked up a pillow and hit Harry with it. "Our engagement party."

"Right. Of course." Louis rolled his eyes. "I love you."

"Get off the bed, I just made it up."

Harry pouted and rolled over on the bed. "Join me. We have time until the party." Louis groaned in disagreement. Harry peered up at him and rested his head in his hand. "Pleeease? We rarely cuddle."

"We do it every night because you say that exact thing," Louis said, annoyed. But he climbed on the bed and situated himself in a comfortable position, and then Harry crawled over to him and rested his head on his chest with a content smile. 

"Whipped," Harry muttered.

Louis scoffed. "Excuse you?"

Harry lifted his head and gave the biggest smile he could. "You're so whipped that you proposed to me."

"About that," Louis started, "I think I want the ring back. My other boyfriend said he likes flowers, so I'd figured I'd give it to him. Y'know. To be nice."

Harry shoved his face in Louis' chest and bit his skin through the shirt. "Rude."

Louis tugged at Harry's hair to try and get him to stop. "I'm the nicest."

"Sir, yes, sir," Harry joked out.

"Oh, c'mon. I'm good to you," Louis defended. 

Harry nodded and looked back up. "You are! I was joking."

They stayed there for as long as they could. Harry doesn't think that Louis wants to admit that he loves cuddling as much as Harry does. And when the time came, they left and drove to their friends' flat for the engagement party. 

Harry and Louis hadn't seen much of their friends. Of course, they'd see them plenty of times, but since moving and working more, it did become hard. So when they got to the party and saw Zayn, Madeline, Liam, Niall, and a few others, he just felt over-the-moon happy. They all talked, they stared at Harry's ring and Harry bathed in all the compliments he received from it, and Louis was drinking a beer and groaning about how it's going to be a pain to plan a wedding. Harry was going on about how exciting it will be to plan a wedding.

"We're your groomsmen, right?" Liam asked, gesturing between himself and Niall.

"Of course!" Harry shouted out happily. Then he hugged them. "Gonna be a small wedding at Louis' Mum's house."

Liam nodded and sipped the water from his cup. "Cute. Proud of you, H. Really happy that everything's going so good and working you. You deserve it."

Harry was holding back tears (when was he not?) when he hugged Liam again. "Thank you." He pulled away and inhaled deeply, and then squealed to himself. "I'm engaged!"

"Congrats!" Niall yelled out. "Let's go make you a drink."

Harry's eyes widened and he reluctantly followed Niall into the kitchen were all the alcoholic beverages were. Niall was still experimenting on a one-of-a-kind drink, sadly, and he chose to experiment on Harry the most. Now wasn't any different. A look of disgust reached his face when he saw Niall mixing lemonade and Pepsi together. He had to look away.

"Right!" Niall said, handing Harry the glass with a hopeful look. 

Harry took it and sniffed it. "What alcohol did you put in it?"

Niall smiled widely. "That's a surprise."

"Oh, God," Harry muttered to himself. He lifted the glass to his mouth and then took a tiny sip. And then he widened his eyes. Niall sighed in defeat and started making Harry his usual drink, but Harry started drinking more of it. It's good. It has that strong alcohol kick, and the lemonade and Pepsi (and other things he didn't see Niall mix) somehow balanced each other out in a somehow sweet, strong, and manly drink. Harry didn't understand it. "Niall, it's bloody good!"

Niall looked even more surprised than Harry. He grabbed the glass and took a sip himself, and then let out a loud scream. He called Liam in, but his loud scream made the others file into the kitchen to see what was going on. All Niall did was raise the glass up in the air and shout, "The Nialler!"

"What?" Liam asked, moving over to Niall. He took the glass when it was handed to him and had a taste. "You made this?"

"MY LEGENDARY DRINK HAS BEEN INVENTED. CIRCLE 'ROUND IF YOU WANT TO TRY THE NIALLER," Niall shouted, and everyone did.

Harry couldn't believe it. He walked out of the kitchen with a hand in his air and found Louis. "He did it, Louis!" He proudly said. "After years of trying, he's made his unique drink."

"Our lives really are coming together," Louis mumbled, looking in the distance. He shook his head in disbelief and motioned for Harry to sit on his lap. "Can you believe it?"

Harry sat down and kissed Louis' nose. "It's strange. In a good way."

"Liam and Niall are happy, gay boys. Niall made a drink he's been trying to make for years. . . . Zayn and Madeline are apparently doing great. They disappear a lot, though, so I'm fine knowing the minimum of it. And Ed! Doing his music!"

"And us," Harry added.

"And us."

"We've been through a lot of heartache, but found each other in it."

Harry smiled widely and dipped his head down to rest on Louis' shoulder. "We're so awesome."

"Hell yeah."


	58. ✿46✿

"Isn't January a little cold for an outside wedding?" Harry asked with a scrunched up nose.

Louis pursed his lips and shrugged. "It's, like, our month, though."

Harry furrowed his brows, and then widened his eyes. "Oh, my God, you're so cute. The month we met. I didn't even remember for a second!"

Louis rolled his eyes. "Clearly."

"I still think it might be too cold, though. My Gran will be freezing. And the girls, all in dresses, in the cold . . . I don't know . . ."

Louis sighed. "Yeah, you're right. A Fall wedding, then?"

"That's too far away! Maybe Summer, yeah? That'd be really nice! Not so far away."

Louis licked his lips. "Well, meant this Fall."

Harry's mouth fell open. "That could never work. It's way too soon, Louis."

"October," Louis quietly said.

"Still cold!" Harry argued.

"But not as cold."

"A Fall wedding? In October? That's only a few months, Louis."

Louis grinned and ran his fingers through Harry's hair. "You know want to."

Harry pressed his lips together and thought about it. "Decorations, and wedding invitations, and dresses! Our clothes! Louis, there wouldn't be enough time!"

Louis started to massage Harry's shoulders. "We don't have to be fancy. We can wear what we have and so can everyone else. I mean, it's at me mum's backyard. Not very fancy."

Harry started biting his lip, stressed, but leaned back into Louis' hands. They had been trying to sort out dates at the kitchen table, and somehow it turned into planning the entire wedding at once. "I can do the flowers. I own a flower shop."

Louis let out a happy noise. "See, we can do this!" He leaned down and kissed Harry's cheek. "We can do it, yeah?"

Harry exhaled through his nose and stopped to think. Since it is a small wedding, maybe it could be accomplished. "You're getting the invites out, though."

"Deal."

+

"What?!" Liam shouted, panic written all over his face. "So soon! What are we wearing?"

Harry waved dismissively. "It's gonna be casual. It's mutual, we've discussed it."

Liam shook his head and blew out air through his mouth. "This is insane. When in October?"

"October the twenty-third."

He sighed again. "Damn."

"Yeah."

"Right. So. What you need help on?"

Harry pulled out his phone and started going through addresses. "Louis needs help with inviting people, and I was hoping you could be the one to help him?"

Liam groaned and scratched his forehead. "Right. What are you doing, then?"

Harry quirked a brow. "Planning a whole freakin' wedding in under two months, what about you?"

Liam swallowed. "Helping Louis."

Harry nodded once. "Okay. So. I'll send you these addresses and stuff. Louis will text you about getting together. Thanks, mate," he said with a smile. He hugged Liam and stood up from the sofa. "Where's Niall?"

"Planning his bar he wants to open."

Harry nodded and headed for what used to be his room, knowing it had been turned into the place Niall used to "think." When he opened the door, Niall was on the floor with a defeated look on his face.

"So much money. Where does it go?" He looked right at Harry. "Where does it go?"

Harry smacked his lips and turned on the light. Niall winced and lazily stood up and sat on a small chair where Harry's bed used to be. "Right," he muttered. "Niall, need your help. Know any good bartenders for the wedding?"

"Don't think I'm a good one, mate? I see how it is!"

"No! Niall, I didn't mean it like that. You're gonna be in the wedding. Just wanted you to relax and have a good time."

"No, I'll do it."

Harry wasn't convinced.

"Harry, I can do it! I want to."

He sighed (there was a lot of sighing going around). "Fine. Work out how much you'll need and we'll pay it."

Niall looked so grateful that he was about to cry. "I love you."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Love you too. And the wedding's in October, so. Get to it, pal!"

Niall widened his eyes and stood from his chair, incoherently speaking very fast in a thick Irish accent that Harry couldn't understand as he made his way into the living room and pulled open is computer. He looked a little panicked, but not as panicked as Liam. So that's fine. They've got it under control. 

Harry was saying his goodbye's when he went for the door, but stopped when Liam asked:

"Who's the man of honor, though?"

He turned around and squinted his eyes in thought. "Um. Both of you."

Liam nodded slowly and narrowed his eyes in on Niall. "Huh. Right."

Harry could see a distinct look of competitiveness on his face, and had a feeling Liam and Niall would be kissing his ass to make it where only one of them would be the man of honor. He left before it got like that and headed for Madeline's place immediately. His day was going to be filled with this, and he's sure he's already losing his hair over it. 

+

"What?" Madeline said with wide eyes after hearing when the wedding is. 

"You can help with decorations, right? Surely? You've got good taste."

She scratched her head and started to heat up a burrito. Stress eating, she called it. "Well. Yeah, but, it's really cuttin' it close, Harry."

"We want something simple! Just white things. Like white lace, flowers, that I'll take care of, obviously, but . . . Uh, yeah. That stuff. Y'know?"

"How do you see the way it's set up? Gotta tell me this so I can picture everything."

It made it easier since Mad's knows what Louis' backyard looks like. Harry explained everything the best he could, and it seemed like hours they were there for hours before she was done questioning him about everything. But he loved that she wanted to get everything right and was so focused on it all. He just wanted the gazebo wrapped in lights, white lace, and flowers. If that could happen. 

"Do you have a priest yet?" She asked.

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I know someone," he quietly said. 

"Who?"

He opened his eyes and smiled a little. "Used to go to church with Mum when we could. He buried her. Um . . . He's kept up with me on Facebook and stuff. Good guy. Wouldn't want anyone else for it, so. Definitely him."

She nodded and patted his shoulder. "That's great, Harry. Just take a breather now. I've got this. Now go home and take a relaxing bath, and call me if you need anything."

Harry nodded and hugged Madeline tightly. "Thanks. Louis will be calling Zayn about his duties, I'm sure."

"I'll keep them in line."

He thanked her again and left, and then groaned to himself, because he had to catch a cab to get to Ed's place. He needed to plan what he could to get it out of the way. He wanted to go to bed tonight knowing a little of the weight was lifted from his shoulders. So he got in a cab and went to Ed's nice apartment that he had recently gotten. 

"What do you need?" Ed asked when he opened the door for Harry. 

Harry let himself in and helped himself to a glass of water. "Music. Wedding. You."

"Was that a proposal?" Ed jokingly said with a wide smile. "Could've done better."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully and sat down on a stool in his large kitchen. "We've decided to get married in October. The twenty-third. Yeah."

Ed widened his eyes (Harry was getting tired of the same reaction from everyone) and he let out a happy shout. "Hey, that's amazing!"

"Can you do the music? We'll pay you, of course."

Ed shook his head and Harry's heart sunk into his stomach. "No need to pay me."

Harry perked up instantly. "Wait, so that's a yes?"

"Of course. It'd be an honor!"

Harry jumped up and hugged Ed tightly. "E-Dawwg, you're incredible. But we're giving you money whether you like it or not."

Ed huffed and they pulled apart. "Not taking it."

Harry glared. "Yes, you are."

"Damn. Turning into bridezilla."

"I'm planning a wedding in only a couple of months. Anything will set me off," Harry said with a sweet smile. "But thank you again. Things will hopefully go smoothly from here on out!"

+

Things were not going so smoothly. 

Well. Harry wasn't handling things very well. He was very stressed all the time, and at work, all he could thing about was the wedding. But he loved planning it and loved that it was coming so soon, but it's coming so soon and he's also not prepared at all. 

Gabe was a sweetheart throughout everything. Harry asked if he could with with arrangements and such (Gabe has a great eye for flowers) and he happily agreed. He just said he had to ask his mother first. Aaliyah said she'd hold down the shop while they're away, and Harry just had to give them so many hugs for being so kind. And he gave them a bonus for it. He's the greatest boss in the world. 

But he felt like he just couldn't rest until the day was upon them. Louis couldn't even de-stress him (and he really tried), even offered to push back the wedding. But Harry doesn't want that, even if it seems he does. He just needs to find a way to calm down and be focused at the same time, because he's only been stressed-focused, and he doesn't want that anymore.

FIANCE!!!: H , call me mum okay ? she wants to talk to u bout the wedding babe

Harry inhaled deeply as he read Louis' text. He locked himself in his office and sat down in his comfortable chair and nervously clicked on Jay's number and gave her a call. 

"Harry!" She happily spoke to him. 

"Hello," he said with a smile. "Lou said you wanted to talk about the wedding?"

"Yes, yes. Was wanting to know where I should get the girls' dresses from. How are you, though? Excited?"

Harry laughed a stressful laugh and nodded. "Yeah. Stressed, though. And Louis and I have decided on a very casual wedding. I'm wearing a dark blue button-up shirt and jeans, and I think Louis' gone with a white button-up and black trousers. Keeping it simple. The girls can wear what they feel the most beautiful in."

"That sounds rather easy. Can definitely be managed. And I'd be stressed if I was in your position as well. What do you need help with?"

Harry scratched his temple and thought for a moment. "I don't think you need to worry about anything. Thank you for even letting us get married there, I hope it won't be too overwhelming."

"Harry Styles!" She shouted. "Overwhelming? This is a bloody dream for me! Marrying my boy at me own house! And to a lovely man such as yourself. I'm on cloud nine. Just countin' the days."

Harry smiled. "Thank you so much. I'm so glad about this. I'm glad you and Louis are close again."

"So am I," she said. She sounded like she was smiling. "Marrying my best friend, you are. Thank you for treating him right, Harry. Life has never been kind to him. I don't know why, but maybe it's just one giant lesson that we'll understand soon. God works in mysterious ways, right?"

"Right," Harry said with an even wider smile. "Um, thanks for being so . . . so kind to me," he added, feeling a little choked up. He cleared his throat. 

"You're family, Harry. Don't have to marry my son to be that. You'll always have us here, Harry. Got that? If you ever need some motherly loving, just ring me up."

That would make anyone cry, so obviously Harry already is. "Love you guys," he quietly said.

"We love you! Take care of yourself and have Louis make you a cup of tea and massage your shoulders. Everything is going to work out beautifully, don't worry."

Harry felt so much better after talking to Jay about the wedding. Gemma said she's going to fly in a week early before the wedding to help out with what she can, and so maybe everything will go smoothly. Harry had never had a great, big family. He only had Gemma and his Gran, but now he has so many friends and Louis and his entire family. He feels so loved and strong having this kind of support with him.


	59. ❁47❁

***this chapter contains possible triggers that may be hard to read. please read at your own risk. if you need to talk my inbox is open.***

He felt a lot more calmer about the wedding once it all started coming together. Niall had his end all sorted, Louis and Liam got all the invitations out, and Mad's was killing it at the decorations. She even found them an amazing photographer. Jay's friend was catering and making the cake, and Harry and Louis are finally relaxing.

Their friends were being so helpful throughout all of this and Harry just loved them so much that he couldn't handle it. 

"The priest said he'd do it, by the way," Harry said, a toothbrush in his mouth. 

Louis nodded and tried fixing his hair. "That's a relief."

"He said he's excited."

Louis nodded and pursed his lips, brushing his hair again. Harry rinsed his mouth out and forced Louis to turn to him. He rubbed Louis' hair product in his damp hair and styled it up, motioned for the hairdryer, and started to dry it while fixing what needed to be fixed. Louis thanked him with a quick kiss.

"Have to leave now, Harry, I love you!" Louis shouted as he walked out the door. 

Harry sighed and pouted a little, wishing Louis could've spent some more time with him. But then the door opened again and Louis quickly walked back to Harry, and if this isn't some rom-com shit, then what is?

Louis embraced Harry tightly and he giggled happily. "Love you," Harry said. He kissed Louis lovingly and made sure to make it long to annoy Louis for wasting his time.

Louis didn't seem to mind, though. He kissed Harry with such adoration that it made him feel a little lightheaded. When they pulled away, they were breathless. Louis kissed down Harry's neck for a few seconds before kissing his mouth once more. 

"I'll call you on my break. Having one of those days where I wish I could just take you to work so that I wouldn't have to leave you."

Harry tried suppressing a smile and threw his arms around his neck to give him another kiss. Then he pressed his forehead against Louis' and they rubbed their noses together. "So sappy. Wonder where you got that from."

"There's this guy I'm marrying, you see, and, well. He's the sappiest."

Harry pulled away with a laugh and walked Louis to the door. "Dinner will be ready when you get home. We're gonna watch a romance movie when you get back!"

Louis groaned to himself and walked out the door, which had Harry laughing when he shut it. 

"Do you have any pain reliever?" Harry asked Gabe, who was putting in new flowers. Harry was helping when a headache started in. 

"Think Aaliyah's got some. Right?" He shouted out.

"Yeah!" She shouted back from the other end of the shop.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Thanks," he said to Aaliyah when she came over and handed him the pills. "Hate headaches," he grumbled unhappily. "Been getting them all the time recently!"

She frowned and shook her head. "This wedding stuff is stressing you out too much, Mr. Sty--I mean, Harry."

He sighed and shrugged. "Probably. I'm just getting old. My vision isn't as good, either, y'know." He frowned. "Enjoy your youth, kids."

They both laughed and Gabe rolled his eyes. "You're very young, I haven't got a clue what you're talking about."

+

Liam.

"Harry, don't worry! We've got it all under control," Liam said through the phone. "Right, 'kay, bye."

"What did he want?" Niall asked. 

"Us to get out of bed," he groaned out. 

Niall laughed and put a pillow over Liam's face. "Funny."

Liam pulled the pillow off, sat up, and ran a hand through his hair. "Just was wondering if we could pick up his bouquet from the person that made it. Then he started rambling about being sorry that he couldn't do it because he's working."

"Have you told him about your new job?" 

Liam scrunched up his nose and climbed out of bed. "Not yet. He's rather busy." 

Niall sat up on his knees and glared. "So are we!"

"We're not getting married, Niall."

"Because someone has commitment issues, Liam." 

Liam held back a smile. "You twat," he muttered. "It's not like that!" He defended.

Niall rolled his eyes. Their fights, though often, always ended on a playful note. "Sophia, Danielle, and Cheryl beg to differ."

Liam shook his head and laughed in disbelief. "Hey! Unfair! They just weren't you, obviously."

Niall rolled his eyes again. "Ohh-kay."

Liam flipped him off and left the room to make an attempt at cooking breakfast for the both of them. He is now able to flip a pancake without destroying it in the process, so that's what he's aiming for again. It didn't take long to make, and when Niall came in and apologized for what he said earlier, it made it that much simpler to focus and not screw anything up. 

They enjoyed their pancakes (that were accidentally burned) and Liam said that they should get ready to go into town and pick up Harry's flowers. 

"You should tell him about your job," Niall said.

Liam rolled his eyes. "I will later."

Niall frowned and put a clean shirt on. "We all used to be so close, y'know. Every time something good happened, we couldn't wait to tell one another."

"People grow up and get married, mate," Liam added. 

"I know," Niall huffed out. 

Niall did have a point. They haven't seen much of each other since they all started getting so busy with what's going on in their lives. But it's a good thing, it just means things are happening and that their lives are going somewhere. Liam told Niall this when they Ubered to the location Harry had sent him. Niall only shrugged and went back to playing a game on his phone. 

When they arrived at the flower shop (Liam couldn't believe Harry didn't want to make his own bouquet) they both got out together and went inside to the desk.

"I'm here to pick up flowers for Harry Styles," Liam said to the girl. Niall started wandering around behind him, and then ventured back with his nose in the air.

"Harry's store is better," he whispered.

Liam snorted. 

When the girl walked out with a box in her hands, she said it was already paid for and that they could just take the receipt and be on their way. Liam gladly did that, and then walked back to the car and gave the driver Harry's address. 

"Let's look at it," Niall excitedly said, reaching out to open the box.

Liam hit his hand. "No! We can't see this before Harry, that's rude."

Niall crossed his arms but didn't argue. It was silent for the rest of the ride to Harry's home, so Liam shot him a text and told him they were nearly there with his flowers, and upon arriving, they got out, thanked the driver, and entered his flower shop. Liam was smiling, just thinking about how happy Harry would be to see his flowers that he'd be walking down the aisle with, but his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach when he heard the noises.

He stood, frozen, and felt Niall leave his side in what seemed like slow motion. Liam walked over to where the screaming and panicking voices came from, and when he did, he felt the box slip from his hands. The slow bodies moving around him were suddenly brought into a realistic movement.

"I called the ambulance," Gabe said with tears down his face. He was on the ground beside the body. "I called the ambulance."

The doors were thrown open behind Liam and paramedics were rushing in around him to get to Harry's still body. 

He couldn't think. 

Niall was sobbing and asking what happened, but Liam's ears filled with a loud ringing as he watched a stretcher carry away their friend away. He followed it out, his lips firmly pressed together. Niall joined him and clutched Liam's hand, asking what they should do. 

"Get a car," he said to Niall. "And get in and follow. Call Louis." He quickly moved to the ambulance and grabbed the door before someone tried to close it, and got on, shutting it behind him, and turning to look at the two people moving around Harry and prodding him with things.


	60. ✿48✿

***this chapter contains possible triggers that may be hard to read. please read at your own risk. if you need to talk my inbox is open.***

The strange feeling Louis had all day after leaving Harry never subsided, even in the middle of work. He was thankful when Niall called, thinking he could take his mind off of it, but that didn't happen. 

He didn't understand it. He didn't understand how only this morning he was smiling and kissing his fiance, and now he was waiting in the hospital to figure out what's happening. What happened?

He hadn't had a chance to talk to the doctors yet. Liam told him they said he had an apparent ruptured brain aneurysm.

Louis didn't know what the hell that is, he's no doctor. He started losing his temper when nurses would say that he was in surgery and that they couldn't talk to the doctor. He may have yelled too loudly. And knocked over a stand with magazines and a lamp on it. Then security told him to calm down and put out his cigarette or he'd have to be escorted out.

"This is fucking ridiculous," he muttered to himself. Then he looked over at Liam and Niall who were sitting with scared expressions. "At least look optimistic!"

Liam, with his brows furrowed, stared at Louis. "We're all scared, but we're in this together."

"I should have never left," Louis said to himself, looking up at the ceiling so that the tears forming in his eyes wouldn't spill over. 

Liam and Niall didn't say anything after that. Louis should have trusted that feeling he had. He could've done something. He doesn't know what, but maybe he could have done something. 

Every time a doctor would walk into the room, Louis would stand hopefully, but it'd never be a doctor to talk to them. When another doctor walked in, he didn't bother standing. 

"Mr. Payne?" The doctor called. 

Louis looked up, his mouth open, and his fists clenched. He stood up when Liam did but got to the doctor before Liam. "Is this about Harry? I'm his fucking fiance. Talk to me."

The doctor looked behind Louis and then settled his tired eyes on Louis. "Let's all take a seat."

Louis' heart stopped. "No."

The doctors tired eyes now filled with sympathy. Louis knew where this was headed. He saw the same look on Lottie's doctor after the car wreck. 

"Well," the doctor started, staring at Louis with determination that only came with experience with this. "He had a ruptured brain aneurysm, and as most cases with these, he experienced a Subarachnoid hemorrhage, where there's a significant amount of bleeding in the brain. We did everything we could to--"

"He's dead," Louis said, looking away from him. When the doctor said nothing, he looked up with his brows raised. "Isn't he?"

The doctor inhaled deeply. Liam and Niall were sobbing behind him. "He is brain dead. You can see him, but be warned: it may appear as though he is well and alive, but he has no brain function, Louis. We did everything we could. There was just too much blood and damage to the brain."

Louis swallowed the lump forming in his throat and followed the doctor to Harry's room. He held it together when the door opened up and he saw Harry hooked up to a machine. He wasn't going to cry. Crying would only make it real. This was just a horrible dream, because this wouldn't happen. It can't happen. 

He walked over to the bed and looked down at Harry, stared at the tube in his mouth, and then moved some of his hair out of his eyes. He smiled at the memory of Harry saying that it was growing out again and that he was excited to donate his hair again. He put his hand over Harry's chest and looked at the doctor with a confused expression. 

"His heart. I feel it. It's beating in there," Louis said, hopeful.

The doctor looked down and inhaled. "His organs are still working because the machine is keeping them alive and doing his breathing for him. I'll leave you be, but please take a look at this," he said, walking over and handing him a pamphlet about organ donating. 

Louis scoffed. "You're fucking kidding me. The love of my life just died and you want me to think about people cutting him up and taking pieces from him?"

The doctor didn't say anything. He left and shut the door behind him and Louis felt himself sink into the chair beside the bed and grab Harry's warm hand. How dare Harry's body play him like this. He can't stand this kind of torture and won't give in to it. Because it's a dream, that's all. He'll wake up and Harry will be right there, alive, breathing, and he'll kiss him, because he refuses to believe that they've had a last kiss already.

He looked over his face and felt his lower lip start to tremble. His beautiful boy, with his long lashes and hair that was beginning to curl again. Louis' hand raised to trace over Harry's soft cheeks, and then he broke down. This felt too real to be a dream. He wanted Harry to open his eyes. He just wanted to see those green eyes one more time. 

"Harry," he whispered. "You were supposed to let me go first. We were supposed to get married and live our happy lives, you--you--" Louis broke off and let his head fall down on the bed beside Harry. "How dare you."

He can't wrap his head around the fact that he wouldn't hear Harry's voice again, or feel the warmth of his body tangled in his in bed, or hear his laugh. He lifted his head and looked at Harry. He didn't want to remember him like this, attached to machines, hearing his heartbeat on the monitor, but knowing that it doesn't mean a damn thing because he won't wake up. He heard the door slide open and he quickly wiped his face and looked at the person stepping in. 

It was a girl nurse with a sympathetic smile. "Your friends are wondering if they can come in, but don't feel pressured. Is there anything I can do?"

Louis looked at the heart monitor. "Turn that off, please. I can't stand listening to it."

She nodded quickly and moved over to it, pushing a button and making the screen go black. 

"You can let them in," he quietly said. 

And then it went on. People that Liam called to tell what had happened stopped by to see Harry, and Louis wouldn't let go of his hand. He felt numb throughout the whole process. People would tell him that they'd pray for him and that they were there for him, but he just wanted them to go. The longer he was there, the harder the pamphlet would tempt him. He began wondering what Harry would do, and then he felt dumb for even thinking that, because without a second thought Harry would have helped someone in need. Harry would want that, would want his organs to help other people go on. He agreed to it when Harry's Grandmother came in. She said Harry would have really wanted that, so hearing that sealed the deal for him. 

Gemma was on her way, having just caught a plane last minute, so Louis had to wait. He had to wait to unplug his fiance from a machine so that his sister could say goodbye to him. He couldn't bare seeing her, not when they looked so much alike, so when she had arrived hours later, he'd finally pulled his hand out of Harry's and left to get some coffee from the cafeteria. He feels like he hasn't slept in weeks and is exhausted just thinking about everything that needs to happen. He doesn't want to think about it. 

He found Liam and Niall sitting at a table with coffee's, so he decided to join. 

"Hey," he said to them. Then he looked at Niall. "I'll pay you for the alcohol you've bought. How much was it?" He asked, taking a light sip from his drink. "Called mum and canceled everything. She said she'd be here soon. Liam, you still got the list of people we invited? Lost mine."

Liam looked at Niall with a worried look. "Louis, you don't have to do any of this right now."

"Yes, I do," Louis muttered, voice firm to his surprise. "I don't want to put it off and have to deal with thinking about canceling a wedding because my soon-to-be husband died. And I need to figure out a funeral, Liam, so yes, I do."

Liam sighed and pulled out his phone, pulling up the people they'd contacted. 

Louis took the phone and looked over it. "Thanks." 

Niall reached across the table and took Louis' hand in his. "Hey. Leave this to us, we can do it."

"No," Louis mumbled. "You knew him longer than I did, you're hurting too."

"But you fell in love with him," Liam said, reaching out to pull Louis' phone away. "We can do this."

Louis clenched his jaw. "I need to do something. I can't just do nothing! Then I'll think about it, and I don't want to think of Harry . . . dead."

Gemma found him when he was leaving the cafeteria. He didn't know what to expect, but he was surprised when she hugged him and cried into his neck. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and let her have a moment. He felt robotic; he'd already cried so much it was like his body couldn't produce tears anymore. She was speaking incoherently but Louis just couldn't handle it when she pulled back and looked up at him. He apologized when he turned away and walked off, said he couldn't deal with this, and found himself outside, lighting his third cigarette. He looked at his tattoos and frowned. He didn't know when his tattoos started to become Harry-related, but now he can't stand to look at them. Now it's just a reminder that he's gone. 

The numb feeling continued for a few days. When they unplugged Harry and he felt his heartbeat slow beneath his hand, he felt so disconnected with his emotions. When the doctor's took him to donate his organs, he just couldn't feel. 

He didn't have to worry about doing a funeral himself, because his mum and friends were there to help. His mum was staying at the house to clean and cook for him, even though he mostly stayed in bed all day. He'd called work and said what happened, and they said they'd let him off for as long as he needed. He doesn't feel like going back. 

When the week went by, what really go him was when Gabe came in for work, because no one had told him what had happened. Louis' mother had to handle that as well. 

When two weeks went by he started to think about the flowers, and how devastated Harry would be if he found out he'd let them die, so he found himself watering the flowers at an ungodly hour and threw out the ones that had died. 

He'd stay in Harry's clothes because they smelled like him. When the smell would fade, he'd grab his perfume (Harry never liked cologne because he said it was never a pretty enough scent for him) and spritz the room with it again. 

Burying Harry was harder than he thought it would be. He left when Liam got up to say some words about Harry, because he didn't want to think about a funeral for the love of his life. The priest that was supposed to marry them ended up giving a funeral at his church; he hated it. 

He got drunk a lot and smoked too much. His mother wouldn't say anything, though. She gave him space and would clean out the food she'd make him but he'd never touch. When he asked her to paint his nails with Harry's nail polish, she didn't argue. He wore Harry's engagement ring on his thumb and wouldn't take it off. He didn't take off his own ring either, apart from the day he was supposed to get married approached. He didn't want to look at it that day. 

"Does it ever get any easier?" He asked his mum when she was making tea. She seemed surprised to hear him talk about it. 

"No," she blatantly said. "But you do learn how to live with it."

"When your dad died," Louis started, looking down at his chipped nail polish, "how long did it take for you to live with it?"

"I just woke up one day and noticed the pain wasn't as unbearable. Then I could look back on memories with a smile. The pain never leaves, but the memories, though hard to think about, get you through it, Lou. You can get through this."

"I don't know if I can."


	61. Epilogue.

_January, two years later._

Louis inhaled deeply and felt his nerves start to take over again. It happened every time, but he knew that when it started, when he got out there, he would feel fine. He looked down at the book in his hand, and then at his notes, and then he inhaled deeply when he heard his name over the speakers. He stood up and walked out behind the curtains with a wide smile on his face when he heard the whistles and claps. He didn't look out as he situated himself behind the podium and put his notes and book down on it. When he did he felt overwhelmed when he saw everyone standing and clapping for him. He leaned into the microphone.

"Thank you, thank you. You can all sit now, by the way," he laughed out. The lights shining on him made it hard to look at everyone, so he grabbed his microphone from the stand and took his book with him and sat at the edge of the stage, where the lights weren't pointing directly at him. "Just gonna sit," he said with another laugh. Then he sighed. "You all know me from this book." He looked down at it. "You know Harry from it. And you're here because you probably see yourself in it. 

"Many have told me how much it's helped them become who they are because it made them see how short life really is. I'm no writer, trust me. I just put my feelings on paper and it became something that I'm so deeply proud of. Harry was the kind of guy who gave so much because he knew what it was like to have so little. He changed me in the best way a person could be changed. 

"Today is the day we met. We were both sick and need cough medicine," Louis felt himself shaking his head in fondness at the memory. "This day, many years ago, my life started to change and form into annoying coincidences for me at the time. Now, looking back, I see that it was just fate going, 'stop being a fucking idiot and be nice to the guy.' I know you've already read this, but I just wanted to . . . to think of him. And to think of the others who were taken away too young from us. 

"When this book started to sell, I wondered why. Why did people want to read about a sappy love that ended devastatingly? And then I received mail. Just a few at first, but I opened one and read it, and . . . and this boy said that it gave him the courage to come out to his friends and family, because he didn't want to waste time being afraid to love." Louis stopped and felt himself choke up a little bit. He bit his lower lip and looked down at the floor before looking out to the crowd again. "I got more mail. Some if it said that they were in a secret relationship because they didn't want their families to be disappointed or disgusted, but when they read this, it pushed them to do it. 

"I'm not praising myself, by any means," he said, waving a hand. "I'm just wanting to say that it's okay to love. Love is beautiful and magical. Don't be afraid to love. As many of you know, people are still killed and shunned for loving and being who they are. Because of that, I've been successfully creating shelters. People have been donating and donating. Celebrities have been putting their money to this, raising close to a million dollars, because we need to step up and protect love. Because life is so bloody short--and to force yourself to hold back those feelings because you know someone that thinks it's wrong only damages you. 

"Love should always win. I've told many people that if you don't think it's safe for you to come out, that you shouldn't, and that's awful. No young person should have to hide their true selves like that and live in fear, but with this, with these shelters, I'm hopefully giving them a chance."

Clapping arose from all around the theater he was speaking in, and he smiled to himself and looked down at his book. "I didn't want Harry's loss to be for nothing. Harry was the purest soul you could ever meet and I miss him everyday. It hurts knowing that I was so close to marrying him but couldn't. So please don't be afraid to love. It's the most extraordinary thing that's ever happened to me. To my LGBTQ friends: keep fighting. We've come a long way from how things were, and we're getting closer to where we wanna be. Today we should remember the people we've loved that are no longer with us. We should do the things we want in life in honor of them.

"If Harry were here, he'd tell you to always follow your heart. He never thought he could open up his own flower shop, and now it's the most popular one in all of England. Be who you want to be and work hard for it. In the end, you're only left with yourself and what you've done in your life, so do the things that make you happy. That's the secret for living an extraordinary life. Find love and hold on to it," Louis said, scratching at his eyes to wipe the tears in a sneaky way. "And I suppose now is a good time to take questions."

He looked at the lines forming between the aisles and looked to the right of him, motioning for him to speak. "Hi, Louis. First off, I just wanna say that I admire you so much for putting your story out like this. It really has helped me, because I thought that people would look at me and go, 'oh, that gay guy' and I didn't want to be that. I just wanted to be me. And when I read this, I was like. . . Wow, fuck it, I don't care if I get labeled that, because I'm gay as hell and I'm in love with my best friend. It gave me the courage to come out to him, and the craziest thing happened. He said he'd been in love with me for years. We got married last week and--"

Louis clapped and quickly wiped away the happy tears that started to fall. The whole room started to join in on clapping and hollering. It was a beautiful experience.

"--And I just couldn't be happier." The guy laughed and wipes his tears onto his shirt. "Anyway, thank you. And my question is: do you like croissants?"

The crowd all laughed and clapped some more as the guy left and sat down in his seat. Louis was laughing when he raised his microphone back up to him. "That was beautiful. Thank you for sharing that. It . . . it really touched me. Just never let go of him, mate. And yes, I love croissants."

A lot more questions were answered before Louis closed by telling them where they could find shelters if they--or their friends--needed someplace to go to. When he left and got in his car, he told the driver to go to Harry's flower shop. He hadn't been there in a while and had to see it today. 

After writing the book, Louis had the money to pay off everything and move. He couldn't stand living there, where everything reminded him of Harry. He still wore his ring on his thumb. He twisted it absentmindedly and bit his lip. His heart began pounding when the familiar street came in to view, and Louis grinned widely at all the flowers scattered outside the store. People would leave flowers for Harry, and people would leave flowers for themselves. Sometimes there would be notes attached saying that they were sorry they couldn't love as openly as Harry did. That always broke Louis' heart even more, but he left them there. He's had his time to grieve. He can let others grieve for the lives they wished to have.

He got out of the car and tightly held onto the flowers he'd gotten earlier, made to resemble Harry's bouquet he was supposed to walk down the aisle with. He put them down quickly beside another set of flowers and walked in. He greeted Gabe with a smile, but stopped when he saw Liam, Niall, Mad's, Zayn, and Ed standing in the shop.

"My God," he quietly said. Everyone circled around him and he gave them each tight hugs. "Missed you lot so much."

Ed ruffled Louis' hair and Louis flipped him off. "Stop goin' on so many tours, then!"

"Oi, same for you, Eddy-boy!" Louis said while shoving him. He turned to Liam. "How's the job?"

"It can eat my ass, but I'm making good money, so I don't mind it," Liam said with a smile. 

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. CEO. You're still an uptight bastard," Louis quietly said to him. 

"My publishing company is offended," Liam jokingly scoffed.

"And you? How's the bar?" He asked Niall.

Niall gave him a thumbs up. "Still the best in all of London! Business is boomin'."

He looked at Zayn and Madeline, and narrowed their eyes in on them, before shaking his head. "I just can't see you being a dad. And you?" He looked at Mad's. "A mother? God help us all."

She hit his shoulder. "Screw you, I'm gonna be the best mum in the world!"

"I know, I know. Was only joking. Zayn looks like he's sweating, though. You good?" he asked Zayn.

"Yeah. Just having a baby soon. That's all. It's fine. I'm good."

"Clearly," Louis mumbled. He looked at his friends, who were all beginning to talk among themselves. They hadn't been together in one place in a while. They'd all become so busy living wonderful lives. Louis, though, had lived his wonderful life with Harry. Right now he's just trying to put good into the world like Harry would have wanted. 

He slipped away for a moment and walked upstairs. He wanted to look around and see if it still smelled like Harry's perfume. It didn't, to his disappointment. He wandered inside and had a good look at everything, from the nail polish stain on the floor, to the scratches on the counter-top from Harry cutting food up with a knife. He went into the extra bedroom and sighed sadly. He remembered the time when Harry ran back to this room to get Louis' ring.

Louis walked over to the closet and opened it, looking up at the boxes that had some of Harry's stuff in it that he wouldn't dare touch. It hadn't been looked at since they'd moved here, so Louis, with a deep breath, reached up and pulled the box down to the ground. The first thing that caught his eyes was a small notebook. 

_Louis,_

_Right now I am the happiest man alive._

Louis stopped reading and felt his breathing quicken. What the hell is this?

_You're cooking our first dinner and it smells horrible because you've burned it,_

_but that's okay. I'm still gonna eat it and love it._

_I'm so in love with you. I don't know why I bought this_

_and started documenting everything._

_I actually read something online about writing to your future husband,_

_so I guess that's what I'm doing._

_I don't know if I'm going to marry you but I hope I do._

_I've never felt love like this. So strong and powerful._

_you make me feel special and safe._

_I love you!!_

Louis let out a loud sob and clung to the small notebook. He pushed his back against the wall and flipped through the pages. He hadn't written much in it, but wondered what the last entry was. So he calmed himself down as best as he could and started to read.

_LOUIS TOMLINSON, I AM GOING TO BE YOUR HUSBAND!_

_You just asked me to marry you in the cutest way possible and we had the best sex in the world._

_I'm still shaking because of it (;_

_(I'm just thinking of what marriage sex is gonna feel like and I'm already crying)_

_Louis, I've said it before and you're probably sick of hearing it,_

_but I love you so much._

_You're my life._

_Just the thought of growing old together is making me so emotionally messed up._

_I'm so glad that I was sick that day._

_I'm so glad that you had a really bad cough._

_That poor lady you yelled at makes me laugh now. You were so rude!_

_But then you changed into such a lovely and kind person._

_Well, not changed. You always were. You just didn't let a lot of people see it._

_I'm so thankful you let me see it. I thought my pining wouldn't get me anywhere,_

_but it landed me a fiance!!!!!! woo!!_

_so Louis, I'm about to go cook you supper before you get home, but before I go, I'll say it once more:_

_I love you, bear!!_

Louis smiled to himself. 

"I love you, kitten."


	62. Bonus Chapter: Their First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES IVE HAD SEX AND IT FEELS GREAT
> 
> LOU’S BODY THE BUTT THE SHAPE ITS AMAZING
> 
> A RIDE LIKE NO OTHER

**this takes place sometime after they say i love you for the first time and the whole Cal situation. enjoy (;**

———

Harry was rubbing his hands up and down the armrests of Louis' chair in his work space. Louis was tossing out used needles and replacing everything with new ones for sanitary purposes. Harry's smiling to himself as he watches him; he's just so happy. Happy to have the little moments like this, where he doesn't have to do anything to entertain Louis. They can just sit in the same room while one another is busy and it be enough. Harry adores it. And him.

After the whole Cal situation happened, Harry had happily gone along with everything Louis wanted to do. He enjoys being by his side, even when he has the late shift at work. And Harry's mind has been going places he's ashamed of thinking, but it's happening so often now. Especially since Louis says he loved him back, he's just waiting for the moment. The right moment where they bring their love together in the most pleasurable way possible, and Harry's hands are shaking from thinking about it. He's certainly daydreamed about it, did . . . other things to those thoughts. It's the next step in their relationship, and he definitely doesn't want to mess it up. He hasn't done this in a while.

"I'm thinking," Harry finally mutters. He looks down at his lap and then back up to Louis.

Louis glances over at him. "Congratulations."

Harry forces himself not to pout. "Hey."

"Hello," Louis says.

He huffs and scratches at his neck, looking away from him. He genuinely was thinking about this important thing and it's hard to bring up. He's blushing just thinking about it. So maybe he's okay with Louis being distracted and not taking things seriously, because Harry doesn't know how he would say it. He's sort of needy and doesn't want to admit that.

The sound of squeaking wheels made its way over to Harry, and soon, a warm hand was placed on top of Harry's. "What were you thinking about?"

Harry doesn't turn to look at him at first, but fingers gently gripped his chin, forcing him to turn his head to Louis. Soft lips met Harry's in a chaste kiss. 

"I wasn't," Harry mumbled. He couldn't meet Louis' eye.

Louis' hand falls on Harry's thigh and he gives it a squeeze, which seems to jumble up his thoughts into incoherent nonsense. 

"Okay," Harry starts, "I was thinking . . ."

"You've established that already," Louis says with a slight laugh. Harry frowns. "I'm messing, H. What's so important?"

"It's stupid! Forget about it." Harry looks down and squirms in his chair a bit. But that's the thing: this chair. He can't get it out of his brain and it's got him . . . bothered. Really bothered. He should probably get home and take care of this by himself, where he won't be embarrassed. 

"It's not stupid," Louis says. His face turns serious and he starts to rub his hand against Harry's thigh encouragingly, but it only makes Harry whimper. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just . . . embarrassed. It's embarrassing to talk about. Please stop touching me." Harry slouches in his chair and feels the hand on his thigh immediately retract. He looks up to Louis and sees a worried look on his face, and that makes Harry feel horrible. "Oh, Lou. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just . . . I've thought about this. A lot. Over and over. It's a thought that I've wanted to turn into a reality, but I can't talk about it because it's so . . ." he can't say it. Why can't he say it?

"Babe, just say it already. You're freaking me out," Louis mutters. 

Harry inhaled deeply and throws his head back on the chair. "We've done things, you and me. But not . . . that. Yet. You know?"

Louis stared with his brows drawn in, eyes searching Harry's for an answer to what he's talking about. Harry bites his lip, and soon, realization hits his face and Louis grins. Full on grins. Harry rolls his eyes and leans his head on his hand. 

"Say it."

"Louis, I can't," Harry groans out. "I can't."

"Fine, then. I'll just get back to—"

Before Louis can walk away, Harry catches his wrist and stops him. 

"I wanna . . ." Harry looks up at Louis. "I wanna ride you. In this chair."

Louis' lips part. Harry's just as shocked that he could get it out while looking Louis in the eye. His mind doesn't process much else, because soon after he said that, Louis has leaned over and is pressing his lips against Harry's. Harry tilts his head up, hand going up to Louis' jaw to slightly caress; he whimpers when Louis breaks away from the kiss. 

"You sure?"

Harry nods slowly. His face is hot—everything is—but he doesn't break Louis' gaze. Louis' own eyes are a bit wide, lips red, and he inches forward and drags his red lips across his cheek to his ear, his lip ring cold against his cheek. Hot breath fans over it that leaves Harry shivering.

"Tell me how you've daydreamed about it."

Harry gulps loudly. Louis pulls away and unbuttons the top of Harry's shirt slowly, his fingers burning his skin. Everything Louis did ignited him in some way, and every touch he received felt like fire. Harry's so in love. 

"I . . ." Harry starts. He gulps again. His stomach is twisting, butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He feels so turned on with Louis staring at him with so much want. "I would think about you . . . kissing me. Biting my neck. Lou—" He desperately said. Louis leaned over again and started peppering kisses against Harry's neck, soon taking the skin below his jaw between his teeth and sucking harshly. "I can't think," he quietly said. 

Louis' lips removed themselves from his neck only for a second. "Tell me more," he murmured, before continuing to mark up Harry. 

"Um. I'd think about your hands all over me. Because I like it when you touch me. I like it so much," he practically whined out. Louis proceeded to unbutton more of Harry's shirt until it was completely parted. Louis' hot hands moved their way down his soft belly and traced over the pit of his stomach. Harry couldn't help but moan. "And—and—and," he stuttered out. "When you tell me how good I am. Compliment me." Harry was breathing hard when Louis found his lips once more. Harry grabbed Louis' face and kissed him, their lips desperate for one another. Weird noises escaped Harry's mouth but he didn't feel too pressed to stop it, so he didn't. Louis took off the remainder of his shirt, and then pulled away from Harry to take his own shirt off. 

"Lou," he said, because he doesn't know what to say. 

Louis put his hands on the armrest and towered over Harry, a look on his face that he couldn't quite read. "Keep talking to me. You're doing so well, baby. Always ready to be a good boy for me."

Harry tightly pressed his eyes closed and nodded. His face was becoming warmer (if that was possible) from his words and as he thought back to the daydream that always left him bothered, or what he'd think on to get off to. Harry felt weird thinking about that, even felt a little dirty. But Louis seemed to be enjoying it, and Harry was definitely enjoying the attention. Even if it was hard for him to voice his thoughts.

"I need to tell you something, though," he said. Louis was kissing him down his chest. He grabbed a fist-full of Louis' hair and pulled him up. He came up with parted lips, surprised to be grabbed like that from Harry. "I'm sorry, but sometimes I get . . . weird doing stuff."

Louis nodded. "I know. Harry, from the previous stuff we've done, I know how you get. You get lost in your head. You like it when I'm demanding. You get pitiful. Desperate. And it's okay."

Harry sluggishly nodded. "I might need help when I . . . start. You know . . . when I start to—"

"Okay."

"Okay," Harry said.

"I'm gonna make you feel good now," Louis cheekily said.

Harry gasped when Louis bit down on his right nipple, hips unexpectedly jutting upwards before he slouched a bit. Louis hummed happily at his reaction and proceeded to suck hard. Harry's legs were dangling off the side of the chair to make room for Louis between his legs. His hand reached up to run through his messy hair, gripped it painfully, before falling and latching his fingers into Louis' hair harshly. He groaned slightly, which made his mouth harsh against Harry's body. 

His chest rose and fell rapidly, breathing loud. He leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes closed, reveling in the way Louis touched him. Louis then rubbed his hands over Harry's thighs, his hand teasingly brushing over Harry's most sensitive spot. Harry loudly gasped, stilling, waiting to see what Louis was going to do. Hands danced over the zipper of his jeans, and Harry happily helped Louis pull them off. Black boxers were now the only thing left to remove. Louis didn't touch those yet; instead, he hovered down his legs and kissed the part of his belly right below his belly-button. Harry's body was on fire, a tingling sensation rushing from the pit of his stomach and to his most desperate area. 

Louis' mouth bit at the band of Harry's boxers, and slowly, his tongue found its way to the very prominent outline of Harry's dick. Harry whined high in his throat at the contact, hips jerking unexpectedly. Louis pressed a firm hand to Harry's thigh to keep him still. The cloth clinging to himself was completely wet from Louis' teasing tongue, which kept dragging up and down Harry's length. He couldn't help but wiggle desperately. He needed more. And suddenly, Louis' lips were gone. Harry could cry.

"Why—"

"I don't have lube here. Or a condom," Louis huskily said. 

Harry stared down at him and chewed at his lower lip. "I haven't, uh—I'm, like. Clean. You know, um, I haven't with anyone—maybe like two people—and I was tested like—"

Louis quieted him with a kiss on the mouth. "Me too."

"I think you can use, like, other stuff for lube. Um. I just—"

"Harry, calm down," Louis said with a slight smile. He stood and walked over to the drawers by his desk, searching them for something. Harry whined pitifully. "This should do," Louis said to himself. 

He walked over with a tub of what looked like coconut oil. Harry didn't care, really. Sometimes he liked some pain with his pleasure. But thinking about taking all of Louis, without lube, could be a bit much. It's been too long since he's had sex. 

Harry was so hard it hurt. He thinks Louis could see that, because he was smiling when he walked back over. Harry's mind was thinking about finally being able to do this with Louis, and all the pleasure he's about to feel. Tingles kept spreading throughout his lower region and his heart felt like it was about to thump out of his chest. 

"I think these need to come off." Louis snapped the waistband of Harry's boxers loudly.

Harry's glad no one else is in the building. 

He happily lets Louis take his boxers off. Louis takes his own pants off which must be so constricting against him—Harry wants him so badly.

"Gorgeous," Louis muttered. 

He then shoved his fingers in Harry's mouth to suck on, and if that was all Harry was going to be sucking on tonight, he'd definitely make a show out of it. His tongue lapped around his fingers, sucking and hollowing out his cheeks with his fingers wrapped around Louis' wrist. Louis' eyes were wide and his pupils were blown to nothing but darkness. When Louis pulled his fingers free, Harry wiped his chin and then pressed his feet firmly against the chair, listening to Louis when he told him to spread himself out a little more.

Harry swore repeatedly under his breath. The most he and Louis had ever down were the occasional blowjob or handjob. This was something else entirely. Harry could come just thinking about his fingers in him, and once Louis pushes the first finger in, he tenses and groans and doesn't know what to do with himself.

"All right?" Louis asks.

Harry nods, looking up at the ceiling, as Louis works on him. "More," he quietly begs. He needs more, and Louis happily obliges. With the second finger in, Harry can't help but release stupid little noises that he tries to hide by biting his lip. It's been so long since he's done anything like this, and nearly forgot how wonderful everything feels.

Louis certainly takes his time stretching Harry out, and Harry can't believe that through all of these feelings that's rushing around him, he's most of all fond. But then another finger is pressed inside him and Harry gasps, hands gripping the chair tightly, and a desperate noise escaping his mouth. If he feels so full from three fingers already, he doesn't know how he's going to take Louis in this chair. But he's determined. So determined.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Louis softly asks, dark eyes peering up at Harry. 

Pleasure consumes Harry, so it takes a few seconds for him to reply, and when he does, he nods his head vigorously.

"Use your words, baby. Please," Louis says. His voice is still soft. Harry whines loudly.

"Y-yes. Yes, Louis, please. Want to," he replies. He didn't expect his voice to sound so hoarse and raspy. Louis grinned at his words and added a fourth finger, and Harry may have had to talk himself down from coming already. "Lou, Lou-ee," he moans out, head thrown back, as fingers fill him and spread him out and move with experience inside him. And then they're gone altogether, and Harry chokes out a sob. 

"Sh, sh," Louis shushes. He pulls away from Harry and, yeah, he's going to cry. 

"Louis," he frowns out, unmoving and still spread out on the chair. His eyes are welling up.

Louis laughs slightly and takes the remainder of his clothes off, moving back to Harry with a smile as he places a gentle kiss to his eyes. "So needy," he notes. Harry only nods. His hands are grabbed, tugging, and then moving to his waist to pull him up from the chair. 

Once Louis successfully changed their positions, Harry falls on his lap and feels the butterflies flutter in his stomach again. He doesn't think much when he starts to grind down on Louis desperately.

"Fuck, Harry, hang on," Louis gasps out, hands coming to Harry's hips to still him.

Harry whines. "Wanna feel good," he says with a sigh. 

Louis smiles and pushes a lever that leans the chair back more, and Harry moves to lay his head on his chest, his body aching to be filled once more. He tilts his head and presses a kiss to Louis' chest, soft and delicately, before he starts kissing a trail up to Louis' jaw. Maybe he wants to mark him up, too. It's only fair. So he takes the soft, perfect skin above his collarbone between his teeth and bites and sucks. The hands on his waist tighten, and Harry can't help but smile to himself before he finishes the job. He leans back, his hands on Louis' chest, to admire the fresh bruise formed to his neck. 

"Done having your fun?" Louis asks, brow quirked. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are still dark. He looks wonderful, and Harry blushes to himself for being the one to make him this way.

He nods slowly, hair falling around his face, and Louis reaches up to tuck a strand behind his ear lovingly. "Can I ride you now?" he shyly asks.

Louis' chest rises and falls harshly. "Please," he responds. He wasn't begging, not the way Harry always did when he said that word—it was just a firm reply to what was asked.

Harry leans down and kisses Louis hungrily, and can feel Louis hand reach out for something, but doesn't really care to see what. He wouldn't dare break this kiss. But then Louis pants in his mouth, so Harry pulls back to see what his hand was exactly grabbing. It was the coconut oil.

"Let me," Harry says. He reaches out for the coconut oil beside the chair on a stand, and bats Louis' hand away from himself. Fingers dig into the tub, digging and pulling out the oil, before he rubs his hands together to melt it down slightly. Then he moves his hands down to Louis' hard (long, big—so big) member, both hands wrapping around him to coat fully. Louis groans deep in his throat and it has Harry speeding his hands up to spread as much as he could so that he could get Louis inside him. He needed him inside him now. 

As if reading Harry's mind, he pulls his hands away and scoots him up Louis' body. Harry's knees tuck beside Louis' thighs as he props himself up, looking hungrily down at Louis, before he reaches back to grab his dick with shaky fingers.

"You're sure you want this?" Louis asks again, and Harry can't help but roll his eyes.

"Yes," he says hastily. He's got Louis in his fingers now, trying to guide him right where he needed this most, but he was struggling. "Fuck," he whispers out, and he jerks when the tip brushes against his rim before he lost it.

"Let me help," Louis softly says, voice quiet.

"No," Harry instantly says. "I-I can."

"Kiss me, while you—wanna feel your lips on mine," Louis says, voice husky and fucking perfect.

Harry happily complies to his wishes, and lets Louis consume his mouth entirely, tongue and all. Harry groans, because the hunched position he had to take to kiss Louis helped in pressing the tip inside him. He inhales sharply against Louis' mouth, stealing his breath, mouth stilling, as he starts to sink down.

There's no way Louis could have prepped him well enough for this.

Harry's mind is spinning around him, already so full, and he's only taken half of Louis inside him. He pauses, panting, mouth removing from Louis' so that he can catch a full breath. Louis doesn't say anything, just rubs Harry's thighs encouragingly, and slowly, Harry starts to sink down further. He feels like Louis' splitting him wide open. His eyes water once he fully engulfs Louis, hands on his shoulders, fingers digging tightly onto his skin. Harry can't speak. His mouth is hung open, chest heaving breathlessly, and his eyes are tightly shut as he stills on Louis, trying to adjust to the feeling of being so full. 

"So good, Harry. You're doing so well, baby boy, so well. Take your time. I'm right here. I love you," Louis says, fingertips running up and down Harry's soft thighs.

Harry whines at the compliments and I love you, but he can't speak. The pain of taking Louis all the way starts to subside, so Harry tries to get himself to move. Lightly he drags himself up, just a little bit to get a taste of it, before he's dropping slowly down with a loud whine. It hurts—there wasn't a way to avoid that, but he loves it. He loves the burn and loves feeling like so consumed by Louis Tomlinson. The only way to really get accustomed to this feeling, is to work up to it. So he slowly pulls himself up again, and drops back down as lightly as possible.

"That's it, Harry. Doing so good. You're so beautiful on me," Louis sweetly says, his mouth peppering kisses to Harry's jaw.

Harry suddenly feels determined. Determined to please Louis as best as he can, and the only way to do that is to toughen up and really move down on him. So he sucks in a breath, pulls himself up with shaky thighs until he nearly loses the connection between them, before he's bouncing down somewhat harshly. Harry whines loudly, moans when Louis moans deeply, and tries to recreate the action until the burning stops.

"Oh, God," Harry gasps out, head rolling back with his eyes closed. His hands tighten on Louis' shoulders to steady himself, as he continues to move up and down Louis' dick. The burn is only slight now, and pleasure has wrapped around Harry so intensely that he can't see straight. Can't really focus on Louis' groans and touches, because he's trying to focus on getting more of Louis. He just loves being filled.

It takes a moment to find a rhythm and movement that works best for them. It's all new territory, but Harry's loving every moment of it. He loves having Louis' eyes on him and loves hearing the way he whispers sweet, dirty things to him, and he really loves the way his hands scrape at his back. Harry starts to just grind down, his hips doing most of the work. It starts to become a lot, the pleasure of it all. He hasn't been fucked in what feels like years, so he's on the verge of tears when he leans back and places his hands on Louis' legs. 

"Fuck, Harry," Louis gasps out. "You're doing so fucking good, baby. Feel so good, kitten. So good."

Harry moans loudly, eyes tightly pressed closed as he tries to keep with the same movements. His thighs are burning and shaking, but he loves everything about this. He thinks he releases a scream when Louis thrusts up unexpectedly and hits the bundle of nerves that still his moves completely. It was overwhelming and so unexpected that he didn't know what to do with himself. His eyes open and he peers over at Louis, gasping for air and mouth hung open.

"Please, do that again," he huffs out. His nails dig into Louis' leg and his eyes never leave the blue ones staring back at him with just as much lust. Harry lifts up, thighs shaking, before he comes crashing down, with Louis meeting him halfway. His whole body shakes at Louis' actions and when he hits the same exact spot again. He swears repeatedly, determined to keep his eyes locked on Louis', but the pleasure from it all made his eyelids heavy and the temptation to close them was too great. 

Harry leans up and puts his hands on Louis' chest, unable to keep in the little "uh's" he releases when he moves down on his cock. His movements have become erratic, not like how they were before. He doesn't know if he has the strength to continue his movement, but he has to. It feels too good to stop now, and he doesn't want to disappoint Louis. This was all his idea, so he's going to see it through until the very end.

It's as if Louis can read everything about Harry, and that alone could have been the reason why tears started rolling down his cheeks, but it wasn't. Louis grabbed Harry's ass and helped lift him up, but fucked up into him more harshly than before. Harry was thankful he didn't have to be the one to do everything, and loved to be used. It felt too good, too consuming, and it was like he wasn't even in the tattoo shop anymore. He couldn't describe what was happening to him, but Louis kept pounding up into him even when Harry was so weak that he could barely drag himself up. Tears rolled down his cheeks from the pleasure of it all, Louis relentlessly pounding up into him and hitting the spot that has him shaking all over.

"I can't—won't last long—I can't," he mustered out somehow, sniffling, crying out in pleasure.

Louis then took Harry into his hand, jerking him off, and Harry's eyes went wide in surprise. He forced himself to fuck down onto Louis with his newfound strength, and allowed to be overstimulated. His hand worked fast and Harry felt the lower half of his stomach burn. Every time he slammed down onto Louis, he hit the most wonderful spot that had more tears rolling down his cheeks. His hands came up and fisted into Louis' hair tightly, trying to ground himself before he's too far gone. The feeling of Louis inside him and his hand on his own dick was too much for Harry. It was too much to try and prolong the inevitable.

"Lou, Lou, Lou," he gasped out, speeding up his actions as he bounced up and down harshly. They were words of warning, because Harry wasn't sure he could hold off much longer. His mind was gone now. "Sir, please. Can I? I need to, sir. Please." Harry knows this will be their thing now. He knows Louis loves it, and he loves using that simple word. 

Louis moans, moves his hand faster, and jerks up into Harry. "Fuck, yes, baby."

Harry stills on top of Louis, lets Louis thrust up into him as the pleasure building up in his stomach shoots tingle through his entire body. Before too long, he can't hold it back. He has to release what he tried to keep at bay for Louis. But the cock pounding into him and the hand jerking on his own left him shaking and screaming. He moved up on Louis slowly, slammed back down, and he was done for. His head lolled back as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He couldn't even hear anything, couldn't hear if he was still screaming out in pleasure because of the ringing in his ears. He came for so long that his entire body was shaking profusely, and his mind was somewhere far away. He couldn't think. Not when Louis was suddenly out of him, not when Louis had flipped him on his back, and especially not when Louis started pounding into him from above.

His mind slowly returned when Louis pushed his leg up, bending his knee, as he thrusted harshly and deeply into Harry so that he could feel the waves of pleasure wash over him as well.

Harry groaned, sensitive and so spent, but wanted Louis to feel everything he just felt. He wanted Louis to come in him, wanted him to meet the tipping point of his pleasure, and he didn't care how he achieved it.

Louis swore repeatedly, and Harry knew he was close. He had to be. His movements became erratic and messy, and soon, he was releasing into Harry with loud moans and slow jerks as he rode out his high. He lazily reaches up and traces Louis' mouth and jaw, watching as he came undone above him in the most beautiful way, before he sank down on top of him.

The room was filled with loud pants of exhaustion and Harry smiles lazily, allowing Louis to press his head into his neck.

"Holy shit," Louis whispers.

Harry didn't know what to say. He knew it was going to be a while for him to be able to think clearly again, but he knew the three words that could easily roll off his tongue in this perfect moment. Words that will always come to him when he doesn't know what to say. 

"I love you, bear."


End file.
